Merlin: Dawn of the Dragonlord
by HighEmpress
Summary: Morgana sets a trap by kidnapping Gaius, which leads to Merlin revealing his secret. As a result, Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine set out on a journey to the land of the Dragonlords to bring Merlin back to Camelot. Season 4. Complete. Noble Merlin. No slash.
1. Chapter 1: Gaius is missing

**Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own BBC's **_Merlin_**.**

**Time: This story takes place at the beginning of Season 4 (but no spoilers). **

**Summary: Arthur, Merlin and the knights go on a rescue mission to save Gaius. When they are trapped with no hope of escape, Merlin is forced to reveal his magic, but at what cost? Now Arthur must go on a journey that will take him to a cursed land in order to regain Merlin's friendship. Will Merlin accept to return? Please read and review!**

**MERLIN: DAWN OF THE DRAGONLORD**

**Chapter 1: Missing**

They hadn't stopped. They hadn't slept. They were riding against the wilderness and the wind. The horses were showing signs of exhaustion. The riders were sore and tired. But nothing of that sort could slow them down. If they didn't hurry, if they lost a couple of hours resting, then Gaius was certain to die.

_Stupid, stupid Merlin,_ thought the young warlock with anger in his heart as his brown stallion sped pass Prince Arthur's white mare.

He would never forgive himself for not following his mentor to the outskirts villages almost four days ago. It was supposed to be an uneventful routine check, but he should have foreseen that something of the sort would happen. He should have known that Morgause would seek revenge. She had seen Gaius use magic in their attempt to destroy the Cup of Life. Her plans had always been thwarted by a mysterious sorcerer, but now she had found him. However unlikely, the old man had outwitted and stumped her in her insurrection to put Morgana on the throne. Such were her thoughts, and now the physician was going to pay.

_Don't think about that_, thought Merlin despairingly. The deception about his powers was so complete that now Gaius was suffering yet again in his place. He couldn't bear it anymore. How much longer was this going to last? How long was he supposed to keep up the lies and the pretence? How long until it drove him mad? It seemed a question without answer and without hope, one that was haunting him in his dreams as well as his waking hours.

"Merlin! _Stop_!"

Arthur's warning came not a moment too soon. Merlin pulled his mount to a halt in front of a large tree trunk that had fallen across the path. His horse paced anxiously as the others joined him.

"Easy, Merlin," said Gwaine while stepping closer to him. "You can't do much good if you're dead."

Arthur, Lancelot, Percival and Elyan also came to a stop. The decision to bring only a small group for this rescue mission was mainly due to the fact that Uther was not entirely aware of the danger they were facing. The look on the king's face ever since Morgana's betrayal was enough to give shivers to any that knew him. His eyes had sadness and madness in them all at once. He would have put Arthur in the dungeons rather than allow him take such a risk. But Arthur, unlike his father, wasn't going to let one innocent man suffer, even if that meant putting his own life in danger. _Innocent_, thought Merlin wearily and feeling a pang of guilt in his stomach. _Gaius is innocent. I'm the one. It's me they want. I'm the sorcerer._

The knights were looking around nervously. On each side of the road was a steep climb. The tree trunk was too large for the horses to jump over. They were trapped.

"What are you thinking, Sire?" asked Lancelot to Arthur. "Did we take a wrong turn?"

Arthur said nothing; instead, he drew his sword.

"Perfect place for an ambush," said Gwaine, agreeing, and then he drew his sword as well.

But the young warlock didn't care. He was restless and the idea of waiting around on this path was unacceptable. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Lancelot was watching him worriedly. Merlin sighed deeply, letting out some of the frustration.

"Do you have any idea how easily I could get this trunk out of the way?" he whispered to Lancelot.

The newly appointed knight glanced around to make sure they were not overheard.

"Gaius wouldn't want you to reveal yourself so."

"When, Lancelot? Tell me how and when?" replied Merlin as low as he could.

His friend managed a weak smile. "It's a mystery."

Suddenly, Arthur bellowed in alarm. "We're not alone. Lancelot, stay with Merlin. Keep him from doing anything _stupid_. Swords!"

They came from both side of the road; men in black, tumbling down abruptly with their swords held high. They were twelve at least. Arthur killed the first one that crashed into him. A second assailant tried to jump on the prince's horse, but he was pierced by Gwaine's quick and agile sword and he fell on the ground on top of the first dead body. Percival and Elyan had already killed one attacker each. Two were now advancing towards Lancelot and Merlin. The young warlock immediately recognized the crest: a red tree. The remnants of Cenred's men were now _Morgause's_ men.

Lancelot had brought his horse directly in front of Merlin to fight off the attackers. The young warlock was perfectly concealed. The opportunity was too good and time was too short.

He cried "_Astrice__**!**_" and watched both men fall to the ground with a groan of pain.

Lancelot threw him an accusing look but he did not care. He could not let Gaius die. It simply wasn't going to happen.

"Nice one, Lancelot," cried Elyan as he was giving a final blow to the last of the assailant.

Gwaine was wiping the blood off his sword.

"Well, this is certainly a change from training."

"We cannot linger," Arthur said forcefully. Then, he addressed his knights with his most commanding voice. "See if we can get the horses around that trunk. This is the shortest road and we must stay on it."

They were all stepping down from their horses now. As his feet touch the ground, Merlin felt the full extend of what four days of riding and little sleep could do to a person. His knees almost gave out and his head was on fire. He was fighting hard not to let a wave of discouragement and hopelessness take over.

Lancelot's anxious expression did nothing to improve his mood.

"_What_?" he snapped angrily at the knight.

"You cannot continue like this. You need to rest."

Merlin took his horse's reins firmly in his hands. "I'll rest when Gaius is safe in Camelot."

"Gaius would not want you to die in his stead. It was what will happen if you face the witch with a clouded mind."

Merlin was about to reply when they heard Elyan cry out.

"There's a path here. There's room for the horses between those trees, but we'll have to go on foot."

"Good! Let's go!" said Merlin before even Arthur could reply, but not even the prince dared to argue with him.

He took off at a fast pace to get ahead of Lancelot. He was not in a mood for the reproachful glare and the faces full of concern. He didn't want to worry about his tired eyes or worn out limbs. He just wanted to see Gaius alive again.

"Leave him be. He needs to keep a clear head," said Arthur behind his back. Merlin pretended not to hear.

"What he needs is a good night's sleep," replied Lancelot stubbornly as he led his horse between the trees. They were entering a darker and fuller part of the woods.

"That time will come. It took me this long to understand my father's hatred for those who possess magic."

_This is going to be good_, thought Merlin as he tried to focus his tired mind on Arthur's voice.

"It was not Morgana who betrayed us," continued the prince. "She was corrupted by power. Magic turned her against us. That is why those who use such powers must pay for their crimes. I will make it my mission so that the people of Camelot can live without suffering at the hand of those with magic."

"Not all magic is the same," replied Lancelot. Merlin could almost feel the knight's stare on his back. "Surely there are some kinds of magic that can be claimed _good_."

There was a short silence.

"I don't believe that anymore, Lancelot. We mustn't let it deceive us or else we risk the same fate as Morgana. You must trust me when I tell you this: magic is altogether evil."

Merlin shivered but it wasn't from the growing cold. He shut his eyes and did not even hear Lancelot's feeble reply. There were going deeper into the woods. The light of the day was fading and Arthur's comment was ringing in his head. _Magic is altogether evil_. _What does that make me? _

But he couldn't think about that now. Gaius needed his help. There was no time for tears.


	2. Chapter 2: Flashback

**Author's note:**

**This chapter is a flashback. I won't make too many of those, but this one is useful.**

**MERLIN: DAWN OF THE DRAGONLORD**

**Chapter 2: Dreams**

################## _Five days ago_ #################

It had to be a dream. There was nothing real about that place. His feet were resting on a black pool of water and yet he wasn't sinking. He felt light as though he didn't have a body; he was like a ghost. Around him it was utterly dark but still he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and he saw Arthur smiling at him. There was something unworldly about the way the light was shining on the prince's golden hair. He was so bright that it made everything else look that much darker. Standing behind Arthur was the bent shape of Gaius, older somehow, looking wise and worried. Gwaine was there too; Gwen and Lancelot appeared and disappeared in a flash of light; Kilgharra, the Great Dragon, bowed low to him. Behind his silhouette, he could see his mother, Ellyan and Percival, and then all of the knights; everyone he had ever known – _loved_ – was there.

And then, a terrible low growling voice rang in his ears and his head, filling him up with something that he didn't want to know or hear.

_Arthur will die._

"No!" he uttered, covering his ears with his hands. "I won't let it happen."

_Arthur will die. It is time now._

He wheeled around. The ghostly form of Arthur was still there, but he was no longer smiling. He seemed sad and his eyes were glassy and cold. He was _dead_. All of the people behind him were vanishing one by one: his mother, the knights, Ellyan, Percival, Gwaine, Gaius. They were all leaving him. A great emptiness filled his heart as the darkness spread around him, reaching even the shape of Arthur that faded and blew away like ashes in the wind.

"No! Please!" he cried out more forcefully. "What can I do?"

The same words rang over and over. _Arthur will die. Arthur will die_.

"Please! No! Tell me!"

_It is time now. We need your light_.

But they were all gone and all he knew now was worthlessness and dread.

_Arthur will die._

"Merlin!"

He felt his body shake. His head was hurting. He was sinking into mind-numbing fear.

"No! I won' let him die. No!"

"MELIN!"

Suddenly, his eyes snapped opened and he was staring into bright white light. A pair of beady eyes was looking at him.

"_Gaius_…"

His voice broke. He brought his hand to his forehead and immediately knew that he was covered in sweat.

"Another dream?" said Gaius with worry in his voice.

Merlin merely nodded while trying to sit up in his bed. There was no way that he was going back into that dream again tonight.

"Why is this happening Gaius?"

"I don't know," said the physician while taking his wrist to check his pulse. "I don't have all the answers I'm afraid."

Merlin knew at least part of the answer, but it wasn't a comforting thought.

"Something ominous is coming. It surrounds Arthur, but I don't know what."

Gaius's reassuring smile faded.

"Yes, Arthur seems at the center of your dreams, but you also forget another important person."

"Who?"

Gaius's expression was a mixture of pride and dread.

"You, Merlin."

"Me? The idiot manservant? Who am I next to Arthur Pendragon?"

Gaius threw him one of his reproachful glances.

"I think you underestimate your importance in this story, Merlin."

The young warlock merely snorted in reply. Gaius checked his pulse again, and his eyes, and the color of his skin, and the speed of his breathing. He only seemed half-satisfied but Merlin had no patience when it came to being the sick person as opposed to the physician.

When Gaius took out a cloth to wipe Merlin's forehead, the young sorcerer said, "I think I'm fine now. It's almost dawn. I have some mending to do and…"

"None of that, Merlin," said Gaius. "You can still get a few more hours of rest. I will give you a sleeping draught."

"Like Morgana," said Merlin darkly.

It was not a secret between them that Merlin's dreams were becoming more frequent and more foreboding. Yet his dreams were not clear images like those he had seen in the crystal cave; they were more feelings, distant voices and shadows. Whether or not they were going to grow into something more, he didn't really want to know. As far as he was concerned, he only wanted a good night's sleep.

From the way that Gaius was eyeing him now, he could only conclude that the physician had guessed his thoughts.

"No, I don't think your gift is like Morgana's," he said. "Your dreams remind me of what the Dragonlords were notorious for. It used to be that their connection to the deep magic gave them the ability to feel certain changes. They knew when war was brewing. They knew when a course of action would bring about chaos or doom. As you can imagine, it was a useful power to have for kings and rulers."

Merlin was glad for the change of subject. Moreover, there were more then one interesting notions in what Gaius had just said.

"Dragonlords were not kings," said Merlin, feeling curious and fully awake now.

Gaius smiled mysteriously. "I imagine that some of them were."

"_Were_?" burst out Merlin, catching up. "Do you think that Balinor…?"

But Gaius was yawning loudly now and avoiding Merlin's gaze too.

"It's late enough. Do your mending if you like, I'm going to get a few more hours of sleep."

Merlin felt as thought he had only been allowed to glance at the phrase of a particularly interesting book.

"Gaius!" he cried out, curiosity getting the better of him.

"This is a conversation for another night, Merlin. Good night!"

"_Gaius_!"

"Good _night_, Merlin!"

This had been their last conversation. Merlin woke up very late and Arthur scolded him for being a lazy, worthless servant. Gaius went to the outskirts villages for his monthly visit. Sir Leon confirmed seeing the physician leaving the citadel on the usual path.

And then, just like that, he had been taken.


	3. Chapter 3: The Cave

**Author's note:**

**Return from flashback. Gwaine, Lancelot, Ellyan, Percival, Arthur and Merlin are riding as fast as possible to find Gaius who has been kidnapped by Morgause.**

**The story continues… **

**Chapter 3: The Cave**

When they arrived at the beginning of the caves, they were bruised and battered. They had been attacked two additional times. Their skin was scratched from riding among the trees. Their limbs were sore. The usual chatter and remarks about how well-trained they were compared to Morgause's men had died out, leaving room for a silence filled only by the labored breathing of the knights. After Arthur's mare was killed by a guard that Gwaine had spotted a second too late, they had left the horses behind and continued on foot. The forest was too dense now in any case. Percival was the tallest and heaviest so he found it harder to keep up. Merlin was so tired that he kept tripping over his own feet, but Lancelot was watching so closely that he was always there to pick him up.

On the whole, they were lucky that none of them had been killed yet.

"Two more guards," said Gwaine as they were crouching behind trees and rock to avoid being seen. "We must be getting close."

"Why is this landscape familiar?" asked Merlin wearily.

Arthur glanced back at him and replied in a whisper.

"These are the caves in which we found Balinor. Remember?"

Merlin could only reply with a wide smile.

The name seemed to give him hope. Balinor, his father, owed a debt of honor to Gaius. Perhaps he would make sure that it was properly repaid. After all, Freya had managed to come back from the dead to give him the sword, had she not? He knew enough about magic to be able to make that kind of assumption.

Arthur Pendragon, however, wasn't waiting around for a miracle. He had positioned the knights around the guards and now they were moving in. Percival quickly took down the first guard. Ellyan slit the other's throat almost simultaneously. The way to the first cave was clear. It wasn't the one in which Balinor had lived; in fact, it was but an opening on higher grounds, partly concealed by thick trees, and accessible only after a sharp climb on grey rocks.

"Stay here," said Arthur close to Merlin's ear. "Wait until the coast is clear."

Arthur left, sword in hand, and Lancelot followed him. Merlin could see the knights make their way slowly towards the entrance of the cave. He wasn't going to wait, of course; he would never give Arthur the satisfaction. However, as he was getting up, a whisper in his mind caught his attention. It was a powerful magic and it shook his entire body, forcing him to close his eyes to regain his balance. _Sister, you are me now. Do this for me. Kill them all!_

_Morgause_, thought Merlin immediately.

So she had survived. They had not found Morgause's or Morgana's bodies so they had just assumed that both of them were still alive; assumed, not known for sure. But this whispering was something else. It was a wave of magic deeper then anything he had ever felt before. Morgause and Morgana. _Sister, you are me now_. Was there a kind of magic that could combine their powers? If so, then they were in worst trouble then they thought, and Gaius wasn't just kidnapped; he was in mortal peril.

Not wanting to waste another minute, not even considering his orders, he ran forward towards the cave hoping, even praying, that Gaius would be in the first one.

"_Merlin_! Are you mad? You're going to reveal us!" said Arthur hoarsely.

But the young warlock was already breaking all the rules. He tripped on the soft grass because he thought that it was solid ground underneath, and then he climbed rock after rock until he reached the cave's mouth. He heard the others following him and Arthur's growling, but he did not slow down to wait for them. His mind was racing and he was fully awake now. Morgause and Morgana: united as one power. He could not go against that.

The strained voice that he heard when he entered the cave was enough to stop his heart.

"_Merlin_!"

Two guards stood on each side of Gaius. The others had not entered the cave yet so Merlin had a window of only a few seconds to act. He raised his hand and sent the guards crushing against the stone wall. They both fell unconscious on the floor at the precise moment when Lancelot appeared.

"He's here!" said the knight.

Merlin was already kneeling in front of Gaius. He said, "_Onbind tha teage!" _which undid the straps that were keeping the old man sitting on a crude chair.Gaius's limp form slumped off the chair and into his arms. Merlin's first instinct was to assess Gaius's body to see if there were any critical wounds. The physician showed signs of beating; his right eye was swollen. His lips were dried and his skin ghastly pale. He was shaking and looking at Merlin as though he was seeing a ghost.

"I thought… I would never see you again."

"Merlin! Can you really be that _stupid_?" thundered Arthur's voice over his shoulder.

He did not need to see the prince's face to know how angry he was. Yet as soon as he saw Gaius's weak form, the future king became quiet.

"They already know we're here: it's a trap," replied Merlin with as much conviction as he could muster.

"It makes sense," said Gwaine. "Why else would Gaius be in the first cave that we visit? They led us here with all those attacks and sentry." Nodding in the direction of the two crushed guards, he added to Merlin, "Did you do that?"

"Lancelot did that," said Merlin, lying on the spot and completely ignoring the reproachful glare that followed. Lancelot was fuming.

"So it means that Morgause is coming," said Ellyan gruffly.

Merlin felt Arthur's hand on his shoulder.

"How is he?" murmured the prince. "Can we move him?"

Merlin was now wishing that he had tried a healing spell on Gaius instead of simply undoing straps.

"He's weak," he said. "His pulse is not good. Give me some water."

Arthur immediately handed over his water skin and Merlin gave his mentor a few drops of the clear liquid. It seemed to revive the old man; he looked more aware of where he was.

"Merlin! You shouldn't be here!" said Gaius in a dried voice.

"Honestly, Gaius, you know me better than that," chuckled the young man.

Percival came closer to the group. He had been watching the cave's entrance and from the look on his face, the news was not good.

"It's quiet out there; too quiet. They are all ready waiting. They'll catch us as soon as we show ourselves."

"What about this cave?" asked Ellyan. "Can we escape through another exit?"

Merlin detached his eyes from Gaius for a moment to glance around at their surroundings. The walls were dark and smooth; the chamber was perhaps as big as the king's hall, but not more. He couldn't see any tunnels or cracks.

Arthur seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "There's no way out. This is why they choose this cave."

Merlin was suddenly struck with an idea.

"We could wait for the cover of darkness."

There was a short moment of silence during which all the knights were deep in thought.

"It's not a bad idea," said Gwaine. "We wouldn't be waiting that long. It's already dusk."

"We may have an advantage in the dark, but how are _we_ going to find our way around? We'll be blind," said Ellyan.

Lancelot was looking at Merlin as though he held the answer.

"You said you've been here before," said the knight to Arthur. "It means that you know your way around these caves at least a little. If we can put out their fires, it would give us the advantage."

"I wasn't alone the last time," said Arthur and Merlin knew that he was referring to him.

As tired and worried for Gaius as he was, it was true that he could probably find his way at least to Balinor's cave. Putting out fires was also falling within the category of magic that he could perform unseen.

"All right!" said Arthur rather suddenly. "We will wait for the cover of darkness."

"Looks like you have some time to recover your strength," said Lancelot with a caring hand on Gaius's shoulder.

They did not make a fire but they took comfortable positions on the ground, wrapping their cloaks on their shoulders to keep warm. Lancelot secured the two unconscious guards with a rope; their black cloaks were given to Gaius as blankets. Percival and Ellyan took turns to watch the entrance of the cave. Merlin ripped some of the black fabric to make bandages for Gaius's cuts and bruises.

"She didn't come here personally, did she?" said Merlin while assessing a particularly nasty cut that Gaius had on the left side of his neck.

"No, it was just the guards. Is it going to take sutures?"

"No, it's already closing, but it needs cleaning. I felt something." He glanced around to make sure they were not being overheard. "Morgause and Morgana. There's some dark magic at work. I think they found a way to unite they powers quite literally."

The look on Gaius's face was a mixture of pity and shock.

"You must be careful," he whispered. "Your magic is deeper, but _dark_ magic is more treacherous. Promise me…"

He let his voice trail while Arthur was walking by.

"Promise me you won't go up against her."

"I may not have a choice," murmured Merlin, aware of the implications.

"Not alone, Merlin. What about the dragon?" whispered Gaius.

Merlin glanced around and saw Arthur pacing nervously. Lancelot had his sword in hand and Gwaine was fiddling with his pocket knife.

"I can't call him; they'll hear."

"You don't have to call him. Your souls are connected. If you reach out with your mind, he will hear you. Ow! What are you _doing_?"

While they were talking, Merlin was appraising Gaius's right foot; it was swollen and red.

"I'm asserting if there are any breaks. I need to stabilize your ankle. Do you really think it could work? "

"Merlin, you amaze me. It's like I'm having two conversations at once. You should get some rest while you can and…"

Gaius's voice broke and his eyes fluttered. His breathing was loud and unsteady. Merlin immediately took his wrist and sought his pulse. He touched Gaius's cheek but the old man did not come around, so Merlin took him by the shoulders and pinched as hard as he could.

"Gaius, stay with me!" he cried out.

The shaky voice was almost inaudible. "I'm all right. It's just a weakness."

There were several sighs of relief around Merlin and the old physician.

"It means no more talking then," said Merlin seriously. "Drink what you can. Keep your strength. I'll… err… try to close me eyes a little."

Arthur and Lancelot were standing to close. What he really wanted to say was that he was going to try and summon the dragon with his mind. Gaius seemed to understand because he gave him an encouraging pat on the arm as he rose.

"Merlin?" he said, his voice still weak. "You're going to make a great physician."


	4. Chapter 4: The Escape Plan

**Author's note:**

**I do not own the name **_**Brittanicus**_**. I took it from John Whyte's **_**Uther**_** in which Merlin is called Merlyn Brittanicus. I only took it because I liked the sound of it. Please don't sue me.**

**Reminder: Arthur and his knights are all waiting for the cover of darkness to get away from the cave. Merlin is going to try calling the dragon.**

**It continues…**

**Chapter 4: The Plan**

Calling the dragon with his mind wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. As he sat up with his head and his back against the cold stone wall, he felt himself drift into a hazy place just before sleep. He became relaxed almost instantly. He could feel the magic in his body like a pulse. Somewhere out there, there was another pulse similar to his.

_Where are you_?_ I need you,_ he said with his inner voice_._

The reply was like a breeze in his mind, but there was no sound, just a feeling and images. He saw dark skies and grey clouds under a silver-white moon. The mountains beyond had snow on top. The dragon was far and he was flying, having answered his call. He could only hope that the creature could feel the urgency of the situation. They would need him before the end.

"Merlin, wake up," said a soft voice close to him.

Merlin opened his eyes slowly, recovering his bearings. He felt as though he had been flying as well.

Lancelot was staring at him. "We're ready."

"What? Now? It's not even totally dark yet…"

As he glanced around, he saw faces shrouded in the blackness of the night.

"But…"

"You dozed off," said Lancelot. "It's time to go now."

Merlin jumped on his feet, now wishing that he had paid more attention to what was going on. Gaius was standing, but not on his own. Percival and Ellyan were supporting him by the arms. The look of pain on the old man's face was unmistakable.

"You can't move him yet," said Merlin to Arthur.

"We don't have a choice. Morgause's men are moving in."

"It's all right, Merlin," said Gaius weakly.

Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder. Gwaine was looking unusually serious.

"Don't worry, Gaius. I'll make sure he stays out of trouble out there."

Merlin didn't like the sound of that. He looked from Lancelot to Gwaine to Arthur. Gaius seemed in shock as well.

"We're going in pairs," said Arthur matter-of-factly. "Gwaine is with Merlin. Lancelot is with me. Ellyan and Percival will go with you, Gaius."

Merlin felt crushed. He had hoped for a moment alone with Gaius to try and ease some of his pain with a healing spell. It would make moving easier for his mentor too. He would have no chance of doing that with Gwaine around.

"No, it's a bad plan. I'm going with Gaius."

"It's not opened for discussion, Merlin," snarled Arthur. "Percival is strong and obviously you're not. He can carry Gaius so that at least one of us survives."

"Speaking for yourself," murmured Gwaine. "I intend to get out of these woods alive as well."

"And if I don't make it," said Lancelot, "then it's been an honor."

As Lancelot and Gwaine shook hands, something changed in Gaius's face. It was a look that Merlin had rarely seen but that reminded him of the time the physician had been sentenced to death.

Arthur had not noticed it; he was giving his orders.

"Keep your head down as you climb down those rocks. Ellyan, you will take Gaius down on the far right where the path is easier. Gwaine and Merlin will go down in the middle under the cover of the trees; Lancelot and I shall take the left side. Stay as low as possible. Even in the dark, you can be a target."

"Wait."

They were all startled by Gaius's unusually low and hoarse voice.

"Wait, Merlin, I need to talk to you. In case I don't make it, there is a name that you must know."

Merlin was painfully conscious that everyone, including Arthur, was listening intently.

"You're not going to die," he said stubbornly.

"Let's go then…" Arthur began to say.

Gaius cut him off, his voice unsteady, little more than a whisper. "No, it's important. Merlin… The name… is Brittanicus. It is the name of your house – of your father's house. There is a place… North East. _Aria's Cradle_. Some say that it is a cursed land and that the house of Brittanicus is broken. It is not so. It lives in you."

Merlin was too shocked to speak. The words were ringing in his ears over and over. _Your father's house._

It was Gwaine who spoke first.

"Brittanicus! You _are_ full of surprises, Merlin!" he let out in a sigh.

But there was no time to muse about the meaning of a name.

"You two can have a chat on your way down," said Arthur, pulling Merlin's and Gwaine's arms and dragging them towards the cave's mouth.

Crouching behind a tree next to Gwaine, Merlin could see the path before him disappearing into darkness. It wasn't a long way down. It wasn't even too steep. The problem was that they had only moonlight to guide them.

One step after the other, crawling on the rocky hillside, they carefully made their way down. They were the first to reach the ground.

But they did not get far.


	5. Chapter 5: Trapped

**Author's note:**

**Thanks for the reviews! It's really appreciated.**

**Here we go: they are leaving the cave in the dark and they won't get far.**

**Chapter 5: Trapped**

As soon as his feet found the ground, he heard Morgause's voice again.

_Sister, it is almost time. Be ready. They are coming._

Merlin opened his eyes; Gwaine was staring at him. The knight's face was half-concealed in the darkness but the young warlock could see his worry.

"Come on, Merlin. We made it this far…" he whispered.

_We shouldn't have waited for darkness_, thought Merlin instantly.

"They're here," said Merlin, his voice hoarse, his face tense.

"We don't know that for sure."

"I do," he replied. "Morgause is here."

"How do you know?"

But Gwaine stopped short at the sound of clanging swords to their right. Merlin wheeled around; he had heard it as well.

"_Gaius_…" he whispered.

"Wait, Merlin!"

The young warlock was already running towards the ringing noise. It was utterly black around him and he even thought of conjuring a small flame to guide him, but that would give away his position. Instead, he brought his sword up in front of him, waiting for the assailants that were certain to come.

Gwaine came up to him in a flash. They could hear the sound of branches and leaves cracking under many sets of feet. However, the first figure that crashed into them was a familiar one.

"Ellyan!" said Gwaine in surprise.

Percival was walking towards them as well; the sleeve of his shirt was thorn and there were traces of blood. The tall knight was standing protectively over Gaius. The old man looked petrified but at least he was able to stand on his own. _Almost_.

"Not this way!" murmured Percival. "They're on our tails. We're trying the other way."

Merlin went to Gaius's side and the old physician took hold of his shoulder; he was breathing heavily.

"I've got him," said Merlin to the knight.

Percival seemed glad to be able to move at ease. He pulled out a dagger from under his chain mail; he was ready for a fight.

Gwaine was leading them back towards where he and Merlin had landed when suddenly, they heard more clanging sounds.

"_Arthur_…," whispered Merlin.

They sped up, slashing through branches as they made their way, but then Gaius tripped and fell on his knees. He was panting and clutching his torso. Merlin glanced up at the others as he lay besides his old mentor. He only had a few seconds to act.

Pressing his hand on Gaius's chest, he said "_Gestathole_!" and immediately he felt the healing power surge through him. He knew that his eyes had flashed gold.

"Better?" he asked in a low voice.

"You're amazing, I hope you know that," said the old man.

Gaius struggled to his feet, but at least his face had regained some color. Merlin followed him in the darkness. His hair was so white that it was almost a light.

Gwaine, Percival and Ellyan were either too far ahead or it was too dark but Merlin could no longer see them. Nervousness and fear grew in his stomach. He pushed hard against the branches; his right hand never leaving Gaius's shoulder. The sound of clanging swords had stopped and that couldn't be a good sign.

It wasn't long before he found out the reason for the sudden silence.

As he stepped into an opening in the trees, he saw Arthur and his knights standing on a patch of grass but with their swords at their feet. Arthur raised his hand and Merlin understood that he should not step in any further. At least twenty fully armed men where perched on a hill in front of them, forming a semi-circle. They had swords in one hand and a bow on the other; arrows were on their back. And in the middle of them, wearing a circlet of gold on her forehead and a red velvet dress stood the Lady Morgana.

_Not Morgause. Morgana_, thought Merlin, his mind racing to fit the pieces of the puzzle.

"Shall we have some light?" she cackled. "_Forbearne_!"

At least ten torches lit up at once, and there was something else in the spell too. Merlin had heard not only Morgana's voice but Morgause's as well, whispering in his head, reinforcing the enchantment. Morgana did not have that kind of power on her own, and Morgause must have been hurt during that fight, so the witch had found a way to transfer her magic to her sister. Morgause was not only _controlling_ Morgana; she was in her head, inhabiting her body, touching her soul. They were as one.

Merlin shivered. Lady Morgana would have been beautiful shrouded in the orange glow but for the evil snarl on her face and the dark magic that was radiating from her. As he peered into her face, Merlin tried to find some trace of the Morgana he had once known, but Morgause's influence was changing her from inside.

"Surprise, surprise," laughed the witch. "You didn't think that we were going to loose you in the dark, did you?"

Arthur glanced sideways at Merlin, throwing him one of his most reproachful looks.

"The idea never crossed our minds," said the prince ironically.

Arthur was wearing his most defiant look.

"She is so beautiful," whispered Gwaine all of a sudden. "Why didn't anyone tell me that?"

Merlin couldn't help but let out a long sign.

Arthur wasn't disturbed by Gwaine's comment. "What do you want, Morgana? To kill me? Go ahead, but let the others go!"

"We'll die before we let you kill him!"

The cry had escaped Merlin before he even became aware of it.

Morgana let out a cruel laugh. "That's very brave, Merlin, but that's also completely useless and stupid. Then again, that's all you ever were. Do you have any idea how easily I could crush you?"

"Why don't you try?"

He saw Arthur throw him another look that had 'shut up, Merlin' written all over it, but he couldn't help it: he was fuming.

"Morgana!" said Gaius, aiming to catch her attention. "I'm the one you want. I'm the sorcerer."

Merlin felt a wave of anger coming from the witch. It was so strong that the ground under his feet seemed to shake.

"How dare you! How can you claim to know what I want? A sorcerer? Don't make me laugh! You're a hypocrite and a liar. You're nothing! Nothing! That's why you're going to die with the rest of them."

"Morgana, don't do this," said Arthur, taking a step forward. "Don't let the darkness take over. Remember who you are!"

"What I am become…"

She paused, looking suddenly lost, almost frightened. In his mind, Merlin heard Morgause again, whispering inaudibly some command. But the hesitation, the momentary silence; it had been Morgana. _She might still be in there_, thought Merlin.

But the other's voice was screaming. _Finish it! Kill them!_

"Archers!" bellowed Morgana, echoing her sister's wishes.

At her command, the men in black dropped their swords and took up their bows and arrows. It was happening fast. Merlin quickly glanced around, Arthur and the others were doing the same, but there was nowhere to run. Even Gaius seemed at a lost. And then, as Morgana screamed "Fire!" several things happened.

Lancelot put himself in front of Arthur. Gwaine took a step forward with a cry of war; Ellyan and Percival followed his example and growled as well. Gaius turned his back to the archers, protecting Merlin as he did so with his whole body.

And Merlin, purely on instinct, did the only thing that was left for him to do: he raised his hand and cried out "_Gescildan!"_

The arrows were set loose, but they did not reach Arthur and his knights, nor did they reach the old physician. A wall of pale light had appeared magically between the arrows and their targets; it was a shield that seemed to come from the air and the heat of the torches. Most of the arrows that touched the shield turned into ashes, but some fell through.

Merlin did not see the arrow that slashed through his left arm, but he felt its bite. He immediately cried out in shock and in pain. He heard Gaius scream his name.

"It's not bad," said the warlock, breathing deeply and trying not to faint at the sight of his own blood on his fingertips.

He was dreadfully aware that Morgana could kill them all with another volley if he didn't regain his senses quickly.

"Gaius doesn't have that kind of power!" said the witch, her voice slightly panicked.

By the demented look on her face, Merlin guessed that she was probably talking to Morgause, not to them.

"I don't care about another sorcerer. You will not deny me this, Sister! I will have my revenge!"

The scream that followed was so full of pain and rage that even Morgause's men recoiled at the sound. It made Merlin's insides twist in agony. His head was on fire; he tried to cover his ears, but it was all in vain. Morgana was summoning a magic darker than anything he had ever experienced. The ground began to shake horribly. As he glanced around, he saw Arthur and Lancelot struggling to remain on their feet while trying to regroup with the others. The patch of grass on which they were standing was opening up like the mouth of a monster. The ground and the hillside were caving in with increasing speed and a deafening sound. Merlin tried to think of a spell, but his mind was filled with the blackness that was now all around them. They were sinking, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And then he watched with horror as Arthur fell into the hole. And Gaius disappeared as well. And Gwain and Ellyan and Percival fell into the darkness. And finally Merlin sunk. Someone grabbed his arm as he was tumbling down and down. And then he hit his head and knew no more.


	6. Chapter 6: Revelation

**Author's note:**

**Gwaine, Ellyan, Percival, Lancelot, Gaius, Arthur and Merlin have fallen into a dark hole.**

**This is the chapter you've been waiting for; trust me ;-)**

**Chapter 6: In the dark**

The first thing that hit him was water and cold.

"Wet!" he cried out, gasping for air and trying to grab anything that he could touch.

It was dark; darker than the forest in the dead of the night. He could literally not see any further than his hands.

"Merlin! Don't struggle! I've got you!"

Groping in the dark, his hand found a strong shoulder wearing a chain mail. With his other hand, he tried to find the wall but he was slipping on the muddy and slimy surface.

"Try to find a root," said Lancelot. "Here! Take this!"

Lancelot guided his hand and there was indeed a short root hanging from the muddy wall. Merlin grabbed on to it, but he was still submerged in water up to his shoulders and it was freezing. He was also painfully aware of the deep gash on his left upper arm.

"Merlin!" cried out Gaius's panicked voice.

"I've got him, Gaius," said Lancelot. "He was just stunned."

"Is everyone accounted for?" asked Merlin while trying to maintain his hold on the feeble root.

"Yes, we're all here," said Arthur, but Merlin could not see him.

It was a bit strange, talking to people, knowing that they were present, but not seeing them. Of course, he had spoken to a dragon, and heard voices in his mind, but this was somehow _weirder_.

"What is this: an underground stream or a well? She's thrown us down a well!" cried out Ellyan shakily.

"Yes, and she's put a cover on it too," said Arthur.

Merlin glanced up, but there was no sign of an opening above their heads.

"Well, we know it's not a stream: the water is very still," said Gwaine.

From the spluttering sound that he was making, Merlin guessed that he had just gone under water to asses their predicament.

"Did you find the bottom?" asked Lancelot.

"No, pitch black and very deep too. You wouldn't know up from down."

Lancelot let out a long sign of discouragement and Merlin could almost feel his breathe on his shoulder. Lancelot's protectiveness over him was not decreasing.

"It is really some kind of well, then," he said.

"It used to be a punishment for sorcerers and traitors, you know," Gwaine added after a short pause. "It's kind of ironic."

"What do you mean?" said Ellyan.

"Don't you think that here and now may not be the appropriate time for such a conversation?" said Lancelot irritably.

Gwaine snorted loudly. "It's just, you know, the _irony_."

"Try to grab hold of some roots and see if they go any higher," cut in Arthur in his most commanding tone.

"It's no use," said Percival grumpily. "Everywhere I tried is just mud or roots that rip easily."

"We won't get anywhere without light," said Gwaine resolutely.

There was a short moment of silence during which Merlin could only hear breathing and the sound of ripples in the water.

"Let's not stay silent for too long. It's creepy," said Ellyan.

"It shouldn't be too hard: we have Merlin with us," sneered Arthur.

"Nobody is going to say it so I'm going to ask it," Gwaine cut in abruptly. "Arthur, I know you have principles and fine morals and all that, but I really _don't_. You do know what I mean to ask, Gaius, don't you?"

Merlin sighed quietly. For a moment, he had been afraid that his name would come up.

"No," said Arthur before the old physician could reply. "We're not using magic to get out of here."

Nobody spoke again and Merlin could feel the cold gripping his body. His left arm was throbbing and probably bleeding: it was too dark to tell. They were in a potentially fatal position: that much was certain. If the water did not kill them, then the cold certainly would, and fast too.

"Sire," said Gaius unmistakably to Arthur's attention, "in such cases, certainly there can be no evil in bringing about a little light."

Without waiting for Arthur's reply, Merlin heard his mentor take a deep breath and say "_Bryne_!" forcefully. He had not heard Gaius utter a spell often, but it seemed loud and difficult for the old man and the result was rather pale. There, in the center of the deep pool around which they were all hanging off the wall was a small flame the size of a fist. Its light was whitish and it made their faces look a silvery grey, but at least they were no longer blind.

Arthur grunted in disagreement, but he didn't dare say a word as the others were obviously glad for the small light.

"Gaius, I'd never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad you have magic," said Ellyan with a half-smile on his face.

"Thanks, Gaius," said Gwaine. "And Arthur means to say thank you too. He's just too much of a _pratt_ at the moment."

"Hey! That's my line," said Merlin.

"How about that idea of going upwards?" said Ellyan. The pale light seemed to have lifted his spirits.

But as they glanced above their heads, they saw nothing that could help them. The roots were all small, not enough for a grown man to hang on to. The wall was made of slippery mud and it went up, up over their heads, as high as a tower.

"Save your strength," Gwaine told Ellyan after he had tried for a while to climb on the wall but with no success. "Even if we could get up there, the witch and her archers would kill us on sight."

"I prefer that to drowning in the dark," said Ellyan crossly.

As he said this, Gaius's small flame flickered and grew a little dimmer. Merlin was hanging with his face half-turned towards the wall. His brain was working in slow motion because of the cold and the pain. He was wondering vaguely if the Great Dragon had heard his call. But even if he had heard, what could he ask of the great big creature? Kilgharra couldn't just dig them out with his claws.

"All right, Merlin?" asked Lancelot with concern.

"Cold," said the young warlock, aware that he was shivering.

"It's not that bad actually," said Percival. "You never fell into a lake in winter where I'm from."

"He's cold because he's hurt," said Gaius. "If we don't get him out of this water soon, he's going to go into shock."

But Merlin wasn't thinking about his injury: he was trying to find a solution, _any_ solution. Unfortunately, all of his ideas had to do with magic and that could not happen without his revealing who he was.

"We should try to get Prince Arthur out," said Lancelot with his sudden conviction. "Maybe we can hoist him up. He doesn't deserve to die like this."

Gwaine let out a long sigh. "Nobody deserves to die like this, Lancelot, not even sorcerers and traitors. What say you, Arthur?"

"Do I really have to answer to that?" There was a general laughter and then Arthur added softly, "I only wish that I could see Gwen again just once."

Merlin looked at the knights, one after the other. None of them seemed really afraid to die, but it couldn't be their fate, it just _couldn't_. It was too cruel. It was unfair. They still had so much to accomplish. Arthur had only begun to walk the path towards his great destiny. It couldn't end like this, but the only option was one that he couldn't consider; or maybe he was too afraid of what would happen to think about it.

He was working very hard on pushing that one dreadful idea out of his mind, when he noticed that Gaius was looking at him intently.

"_Merlin_…"

Gaius's pale light was flickering again and the faces around the black pool were growing darker. Hopelessness was in their eyes now though they were trying to hide it.

"We'll find a way out of here, Gaius."

The old man made a sympathizing grin. "_Merlin_… My magic is not strong enough. It certainly cannot get us out of here. My fire is dying out. Without light, we will all die. _Arthur_ will die."

Merlin turned his face against the muddy wall. He couldn't look at the others. He couldn't look at _Arthur_. Was this some kind of test? Gaius had always been absolutely unmovable on the subject of secrecy. Was the prospect of death changing his mind? Was their situation really that desperate?

"You cannot ask me this," murmured Merlin, his voice strained.

"We _need_ your light."

"No," said Merlin weakly.

"You've been in the shadow for too long. It is time now, Merlin. You know it. You've seen it. This was in your dreams."

He didn't want to recall the dreams. More than once, he had stood surrounded in blackness, watching each of his friends vanish from his sight. Whether or not they were dying or leaving him was unclear. Arthur was always last to disappear and his absence was more painful than any wound he had ever endured.

Gaius's light flickered. It was only a faint glow now. The others had grown quiet, waiting; perhaps they were expecting a miracle to happen.

"You asked me _when_," said the physician. "I'm telling you that it is _now_, Merlin."

And then the small white light died out. It felt as though they were all holding their breaths. Merlin bit his lips. His heart was pounding against his chest. He was numb with cold and also with fear, but Gaius was right; there was no escaping it. It was now or never.

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he enunciated the first spell that came to his mind. "_Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme_!"

The ball of light took birth in the black water, rising from the depth like a large soap bubble: blue, white, silver and gold. The powerful glow lit up the whole cave, casting light on the roots hanging from the muddy walls, on the rock that was covering the opening high up above, and on the dark water below. The stunned faces around him became visible, but he could not look at any of them.

The ball of blue light was hovering in the middle of them all, seven friends down in a well, yet Merlin had never felt so alone.


	7. Chapter 7: Shock

**Author's note:**

**The blue ball of light that Merlin conjures up is the same one as in the episode **_The Poisoned Chalice_ **in Season 1. I got the spell from a **_Merlin_** Wiki, so thanks for that.**

**Anyway, they need Merlin's magic to get out of that dark hole…**

**Here it goes. **

**Chapter 7: Up**

The incredulous look on Ellyan, Percival and Gwaine's faces was priceless.

"No way!" said Ellyan. "I thought Gaius was the sorcerer."

"We all did," replied Percival.

Gwaine sounded more enthusiastic. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, glancing fondly at the young warlock.

Merlin was only waiting to hear Arthur's reaction, but the prince was speechless and his expression was unreadable.

"I'm afraid I knew," said Lancelot softly and all of the knights looked at him in shock. "I took the credit for destroying the Cup of Life but that was only because there was a debt of honor to be paid. Merlin saved my life. You all owe him more than you know."

Merlin tried hard to swallow but his throat was blocked and his mouth was dry. He had pictured this moment hundreds of times in his mind, but never like this, not with Arthur looking at him with such cold eyes.

"Now is not the time, Lancelot," said Gaius. "We're all going to die of cold if we don't get out of this water."

Lancelot pressed a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Can you make it float higher?"

Merlin turned his hand upwards and allowed the ball of blue light to rise above their heads. They could see the roots sticking out of the mud more clearly but the prospect wasn't very good; the walls looked slippery and wet and the roots were all too small. All of the knights were staring upwards, but Merlin was only concentrating on avoiding Arthur's glare.

"You did the right thing," whispered Gaius.

"Well, it's no use," said Ellyan, his eyes still turned upwards. "There is no way that we can climb that."

Only Gwaine seemed amused by the situation. He kept smiling in Merlni's direction. "Never mind climbing; we have a sorcerer and a Brittanicus with us," he mused. "I'm guessing a Dragonlord as well?"

Merlin was as much in shock as the others this time. "How did you…?"

But Arthur cut him off with a surprised yell. "_Dragonlord_?"

Merlin's heart sank. There was so much anger in Arthur's voice. He was waiting for the prince to pass judgment. The young sorcerer tried to remain hopeful, but in his head he kept hearing the same words over and over: _Magic is altogether evil_. Was this really Arthur's opinion of him now?

At last, Prince Arthur spoke. His voice was harsh and his glare even more so. "I'm going to… _kill_ you."

"_Sire_!" burst out Gaius, outraged.

"I _trusted_ you!" yelled the prince.

Merlin felt anger boiling inside of him as well. "Does having magic make me untrustworthy? Is that what you think? You think makes me a murderer and a villain. Do you think I'm a monster too?"

"Merlin, this isn't helping…" murmured Gaius pleadingly.

"It makes you a _traitor_!" screamed Arthur.

"I've done nothing but protect you ever since I've been here. I would give my _life_ for you without a moment's thought. How do you think it makes me feel to know that you would have put my head on a block on my first day here if you had known I had magic?"

Arthur was fuming. "Of course I would have, but only because you were an _idiot_!"

Merlin snorted loudly. "An idiot who saved your life more often than I'd care to say."

"You think I need your help?" bellowed the prince again. "Who are you to decide to become one of my knights behind my back?"

"I only tried to be your _friend_. You wouldn't last _two days_ without me."

"That's enough!" cut in Gaius.

Arthur glared at the old physician. "And you! What were you thinking showing him spells? You told my father that those days were over and we believed you. What are you trying to prove?"

"Gaius has been a friend and ally to Uther and to Camelot all of his life," bellowed Merlin. "But you would have killed him – and killed _me_ too – if you had known, just to prove yourself to your father. You would have killed an innocent man and sealed your fate then, but now you have a chance to be better than your father, better than any other king before you. Do you not see why we kept this a secret?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Arthur said, "You shouldn't have made this decision for me."

The words were like daggers in Merlin's heart. He swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that were now blurring his vision. All those years of hoping, caring and protecting, seemed wasted now. He had always thought that Arthur would understand. But the crown prince of Camelot did not need anything or anyone; such was his opinion of himself, and nothing it seemed was going to change that.

"This bickering is pointless," said Gwaine, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between the prince and the manservant. "Can we try to focus on getting out of here? Merlin, do you know any spells?"

"What?" said Merlin mechanically as thought his brain could not quite believe the request it was hearing.

"Do you know any spells that could get us out of here?" repeated Gwaine.

"We're not going to use magic to get out of here," snarled Arthur.

"That's nice," retorted Merlin irritably. "We'll just die to keep you happy. And you wonder why I keep calling you a _p_…"

But then, a powerful wave of magic hit him. It was a presence that he knew very well and it was blocking out everything else around him.

_Merlin_… said the voice in his head. _You are fading. Tell me what I can do to help._

"What is it?" said Lancelot who had not left his side.

"He's _here_," gasped Merlin with a glance at Gaius.

Opening his mind to the dragon's presence was using up all of the energy that he had left. He shook his head and pressed his eyelids with his hand, but the sudden movement with his left arm sent a jolt of pain throughout his body. For a short moment, he thought that he was going to pass out.

_Merlin!_ It was Kilgharra yelling. Or was it Gaius? He couldn't be sure between the echo of the muddy ground and the voice in his head.

He took a moment to gather his strength before he spoke to the dragon.

_We are down in a hole_ _and they are waiting for us to come out_. _Can you create a diversion?_

The reply rang in his ears like a bell. _The witch Morgana must be stopped. I will be waiting for you to give the word._

He forced his eyes to open and found that all six faces were looking at him anxiously. Lancelot was holding him by the shoulder so that he wouldn't sink into the dark water. The blue ball of light had faded a little and he willed it to become bright again.

"You scared the Hell out of me," said Gwaine, letting out a long sigh. "Is it always going to be like this?"

Merlin decided to ignore him.

"I can make the water rise," he announced. The idea had come to him rather suddenly.

Six pair of eyes turned upwards.

"What happens when we reach that rock?" said Percival.

The young warlock was staring at the light. He had never stretched his magic that far. He was tired, cold and in pain, but somehow, he had to find the strength to manage it; otherwise, they were all going to die.

Merlin gulped. "If Morgana can put a rock there, then I can lift it."

"What are you saying?" said Ellyan in wonder. "Are you more powerful than Morgause or Morgana?"

"I can't be sure," replied the young sorcerer. "It's not the same thing…"

"Magic is all the same," snapped back Arthur, his tone full of bitterness.

Merlin's insides twisted in pain, but he knew that he had no more strength for an argument.

"_Right_. You go ahead and believe that if it gives you a clear conscience," said Merlin rather gloomily.

"Yes; it does clear up my conscience."

Merlin immediately wished that the prince had taken a while longer to reply. The answer had been too quick, too definite. His world was spinning now, changing entirely. Arthur thought that his magic was evil, that _he_ was evil. What else was there to discuss? He would be going back to Camelot in shackles. Brutal, pitiless doubt was settling in. Was everything that he had worked so hard to protect just an illusion?

The ball of light became dim again.

"Come on, Merlin," said Gwaine. "We're not all as shallow as Prince Arthur."

He couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Grab on to what you can. We're going up. _W__aeter, hiersumie me!_"

His eyes became gold for a short moment and then he felt the water swirling at his feet. He said "_Now, Kilgharra_!" in his mind as they began to move upwards. Small streams began to flow from the muddy walls. Merlin had to grab Gaius who was finding it difficult to keep his head out of the water; Gwaine and Lancelot immediately moved closer to help. The water was rising increasingly and the effort of keeping it steady was tremendous. Merlin knew that his light was fading, but he needed his strength to move the rock that was coming closer above their heads.

Their hands could almost touch the rock over their heads when the ball of light was forced under water. Darkness was threatening to swallow them again.

"Merlin!" spluttered Gaius.

"Merlin! Move that rock!" cried out Arthur.

The next scream that he heard was a long "No!" in his head as Morgause let out a cry of anger. Closing his eyes to block out the pain, the young sorcerer stretched his hand and felt magic flow out of him in a powerful wave. He heard a loud _crack_ and then he felt himself being pulled by the arm. The water was spilling out freely unto the open ground now.

A moment later, he was lying down on his belly, spluttering and coughing, hands and knees deep in mud, and hearing nothing but screaming in his ears.

As he opened his eyes, the scene before him was one of absolute nightmare.


	8. Chapter 8: The dragonlord's choice

**Chapter 8: Fire**

Fire and madness were the only words that could describe it. A thick black smoke filled his lungs and he had to cover his mouth to stop coughing. The orange glow was blinding him and it was making his eyes water. The heat was such a contrast with the cold from before that he felt his body give a violent shiver. Kilgarrah was flying low over the woods and caves, lighting everything in sight. Morgause's men had taken fright and they could now be seen running in all directions. Their screams were dreadful and overwhelming.

_Sister! They cannot escape! There is still a chance_. _Vengeance _must_ be ours_, said Morgause's voice in Merlin's head.

But Morgana was nowhere in sight. The fire was spreading around them, burning the trees and creating a wall of flames. They were trapped. _Again_.

"Did _you_ tell the dragon to…?"

Lancelot did not finish his question. Merlin was struck by the look of horror on the knight's face. The others were equally in shock.

The young warlock took a few steps forward. Kilgarrah was doing the same thing that he had once done to Camelot. The only difference now was that Merlin had inherited the sacred gift. He would have to use his Dragonlord voice to stop the mighty beast. He could feel Kilgarrah's rage, but he knew that the dragon would not harm him for they were kindred spirits. And consequently not even its fire would touch him. Sure enough, the flames seemed to recoil at his presence. He was after all a creature of magic, a master of the elements, and he was in no mood for an argument.

He took a deep breath. "_Dragon_!" he called. "_Non didlkai. Kari miss, epsipass imalla krat_!"

He did not glance at the others but he imagined the fear on their faces as the beast that had almost destroyed Camelot swooped around the group and then landed heavily on the muddy ground. A great gush of wind ruffled the warlock's hair. He noticed that the dragon's scales were impervious to the swirling fire.

"What did you do?" said Merlin forcefully.

The creature was bowing its head low.

"I did what was necessary, and apparently so did you."

Merlin followed Kilgarrah's glance and met Arthur's furious glare. The dragon nodded in the direction of the prince. A silent understanding passed between the creature and the Dragonlord.

"This isn't what I wanted," whispered Merlin.

"You did not choose this day, young warlock, but it chose you," said Kilgarrah softly.

But then, they heard a woman's scream.

"Morgana!" yelled Arthur.

Merlin turned around in time to see Gwaine and Lancelot holding the prince back. Arthur had almost thrown himself in the flames in trying to answer his _sister's_ call. The bond between them was undeniable.

"We have to do something!" said Gaius.

"For once, I agree with the old man," said the dragon. "Merlin, the witch Morgana must be stopped."

Merlin closed his eyes momentarily. Morgause was no longer talking to Morgana; she was whispering unceasingly in the Old Tongue, uttering words that made Merlin's inside twist in pain even though he could not understand what she was saying.

"Morgause has done something to Morgana," he said uneasily. "She's controlling her. It's dark magic. I don't know how to stop it."

The mighty dragon lowered its head; its wings were surrounding him, veiling him from the others.

"Merlin, you are a creature of magic; Morgause is not. She is playing with forces that she does not comprehend. Everything that you are is giving you the power to undo the evil that she has called forth. No spell or enchantment can help you. You will have to find the will within yourself, young Dragonlord."

The task before him seemed enormous; his burden had never been heavier. The dragon lifted its wings and Merlin saw again the scene of nightmare. Yet the fire and the smoke did not seem as important to him as finding a slender figure in a red velvet dress.

"Where is she?" asked Merlin, glancing around.

"Perhaps some _rain_?" offered his old mentor with a meaningful look on his face.

Merlin decided to keep his back to Arthur and his knights to say that spell. He had had enough awkward glances for one day and he didn't know how much more he could take.

He raised his right hand towards the sky and bellowed "_Tidrenas_!" Immediately, they heard a loud rumbling sound and drops of water began to fall all around them. The drops rapidly turned into heavy rain. It was putting out the flames and turning the black smoke into a mist.

"Great! I thought we were done with water for today," said Gwaine, brushing his wet hair from his face. But when his eyes met Merlin's, he winked.

Arthur, on the other hand, had more than rain on his mind, and he wasn't as lively as Gwaine.

"Spread out! Find Morgana!" he called to the others.

Ellyan and Percival had found swords and they were already on the move.

"Stay with Gaius," Merlin said to the dragon.

He was feverishly looking around for signs of Morgana when suddenly someone grabbed his right arm.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," said Arthur stubbornly.

"_Right_. So you can burn me at the stake," snorted Merlin.

"Maybe I have something better in mind," replied the crown prince.

With a silent nod in Gaius's direction, Merlin and Arthur started at a rapid pace towards the woods. Gwaine and Lancelot were already searching on the right so Arthur wheeled left, pulling on his servant's sleeve as he went. However, the ground was slippery and treacherous; the rain was cold; and Merlin was too exhausted to keep up.

"Wait!" said the young sorcerer, panting. "All this magic is a lot harder than it seems."

"I don't want to know," growled Arthur.

But Merlin was experiencing a pang of pain again, mostly in his arm. He wrapped his right hand around his left shoulder to get a better idea of his wound. When he looked at his fingers, they were sticky with blood. He glanced nervously back at Gaius, but all that he could see was the faint white glow of the old man's hair. They had run up the hill from which Morgana had probably been watching the caves, and they were too far to ask for the physician's opinion.

"Come on, Merlin!" said Arthur impatiently. "You can rest when we're back in Camelot and _you_ are in your new home. I have a special cell in mind for you."

Merlin was about to reply something when suddenly, he heard a powerful scream in his mind. It wasn't Morgause this time; it was Morgana and she was pleading. She was begging Morgause to leave her alone, to get out of her head. She was close. He could almost feel the dark magic around her.

"There!" he said all of a sudden, pointing at a piece of red cloth up ahead.

Arthur was quicker on his feet. He picked up the red and soaked fabric before Merlin had even started to move. The cloth was actually a cloak: _Morgana's_ cloak.

"She must be around here somewhere…" Arthur began to say.

And then the prince was caught. Jumping from behind a tree, Morgana was on him faster than a spell and her dagger reached Arthur's throat before Merlin could react.

"No! Morgana! _Don'!_" he yelled.

She was pressing a gold and silver dagger on Arthur's skin.

"Tell me why I shouldn't!" she screamed. "Tell me that this wouldn't hurt Uther the most!"

"Don't you think he's already been hurt enough?" cried out Arthur. The comment only made Morgana press harder on his throat.

"_Shut up, Arthur_…" murmured Merlin as he was getting up slowly.

A part of his mind was trying to get a sense of Morgause, of her presence in Morgana's mind. He had to figure out how to undo Morgause's magic like Kilgarrah had said, but the dagger on Arthur's neck was making it difficult to think.

He had to choose his words carefully now.

"You don't want to kill Arthur," he said.

"I think I do…" hissed Morgana.

"No, you don't because he's... a… _pratt_."

"_Merlin_!" cried out Arthur, outraged.

"He's a _pratt_ and a good person," repeated the young sorcerer. "Arthur has always been nice to you. He has treated you like family. _Always_. Your quarrel is not with him."

And then, something changed in Morgana's face. The anger in her eyes turned into fear. She seemed almost lost. Tears began to pour down her pale cheeks.

"Merlin, help me!" she said, her voice barely audible. "I don't know how to get rid of her."

Merlin tried to maintain the eye contact. "Let Arthur go, Morgana."

_She's going to release him_, he thought hopefully. But the second later, her eyes had turned cold again. The moment of weakness was gone.

"Vengeance is mine!" she screamed, and in his mind Merlin heard Morgause as well.

The young warlock was quick to react. "_Ahatian_!" he cried.

The dagger in Morgana's hand became red hot; the witch let out a cry of pain, but she did not drop the weapon. There was a red line now on Arthur's neck. Merlin had no choice. Her next move might be to slit the prince's throat.

Raising his hand in a flash, he sent a wave of magic towards Morgana using all of the strength that he had left. Nothing less was likely to break Morgause's powerful will.

The impact was brutal. It sent both Arthur and Morgana flying backwards in opposite directions. Merlin watched in horror as the prince's body crushed into a tree. The Lady Morgana, on the other hand, landed on her back on a soft spot of grass. She twisted violently and then, grabbing her head, she began to speak in half sentences as though she was arguing with someone that wasn't there.

Merlin was thorn in two. He wanted to go to Arthur's aid, but he knew that he had mere seconds before Morgause took control of Morgana again and tried to kill him. It was Gwaine walking hurriedly towards the unconscious prince that made his choice easier.

"I've got him. Take care of the girl," said the knight compellingly.

He had to force himself to walk towards Morgana instead of Arthur. He could see fear in her eyes again. She was pleading him to do something. She had the look of someone who has been tortured and who is now begging for a swift end. But he could not kill her; that much he was sure of. Murder wasn't in him. He was a creature of magic. He couldn't destroy life. What then could he do? The dragon had once said that Morgana was the darkness to his light. Perhaps _light_ was the solution.

"What is this? What is happening?" cried Morgana, recoiling as he was stepping closer.

He didn't mean to scare her, but he couldn't think of any comforting words. Kneeling in the grass in front of her, he pressed his hands on each side of her head and closed his eyes. Looking into Morgana's mind was even worst than watching Camelot burn. She was trapped inside a darkness that did not even belong to her. It was obliterating everything that she was. It was building a wall around her soul.

The young sorcerer did the only thing that he could do against such evil power. He thought of a light, pure and white, and he willed it inside her head. He felt the dark magic escape her and surround him instead, but he was the light and therefore the darkness could not touch him.

Morgana's body twisted and writhed, but Merlin held her down with both hands. He remained in this position for as long as he could and after a while her breathing slowed down and she became calm. When he opened his eyes, he saw that she had fallen into a deep and troubled sleep. Her eyes were moving rapidly under her eyelids. Merlin could no longer feel Morgause's presence, but there was no way to tell what the damage was to Morgana. He could do no more for her.

He placed the red cloak on her like a blanket and then he hurried towards Gwaine and Arthur. The knight was sitting on the muddy ground with the prince's head on his lap. There was a deep gash on the top of Arthur's head and the blood was trickling down his golden hair.

Merlin moved closer and pressed a hand on his master's forehead. He murmured "_Gestahole_! _Thurhale_!" and watched the effect take form. It wasn't long before he saw some color return to Arthur's skin.

Gwaine let out a long sigh of relief.

"You're going to need a long rest after today, aren't you?" he said, his voice full of empathy.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," was all that Merlin could say.

Gwaine shook his head, his eyes never leaving the sorcerer. "Of course not. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Yes, you're right."

He had not anticipated at the beginning of this long day that it would end like this. Yet he could only see one course of action after the events that had unfolded. Uther was still the king. Arthur would be going against his father's orders if he kept Merlin's magic a secret. In fact, he would be charged with treason if the ruler ever found out. But Arthur would never sentence Merlin to death. What other solution did the prince have then? Would he accept to share the secret? It was exactly the kind of lies that could destroy the Camelot that they were trying so hard to build.

As Merlin glanced around at the scene, he saw that the dragon had moved closer and was waiting. Kilgarrah had sensed what he was about to do.

"Promise me that you will look after him and Gaius," said Merlin with a meaningful nod in Arthur's direction.

"You can't go," said Gwaine.

"He needs time, and so do I. And I need to take care of her too."

The dragon had moved closer to Morgana. "I do not agree with your decision, young Dragonlord. Your role here is not done."

"Nobody asked _your_ opinion," cried out Gwaine irritably.

He then turned to Merlin, his eyes full of understanding. "Where will you go?" he asked.

"To _Aria's Cradle_ where my father's house may still exist. I want to see if anyone bearing the name Brittanicus is still alive. But not right away. I'll take _her_ some place safe first."

It took all his will power just to turn his back to Gwaine and Arthur. The prince was beginning to stir and Merlin wanted to be gone before he opened his eyes. Explaining would be too hard and he was at lost for words. Most of all, he didn't think that he would be able to go through with it with Arthur watching. One scornful look would be enough to change his heart.

His body was shaking horribly and his eyes were watery, but still he climbed on the dragon's back and settled himself for the long journey. The creature carefully took Morgana's limp form within its claws, and then Kilgarrah took off.

He heard more than one panicked "_Merlin_!" as he flew away, but he forced himself to remain on this course.

It was over.

He was done.

**Author's note: DON'T PANIC**

**This is not the end of the story; it is rather the end of Part One.**

**The next chapter is coming up.**

**Please review. It helps me to write faster **


	9. Chapter 9: Eight Months Later

**Author's note:**

**This is the beginning of Part Two of this story. It picks up slowly but will get faster soon enough.**

**For Part Two, I will be writing mostly from Arthur's point of view.**

**I also apologize for the uneven length of the chapters.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**C****hapter 9: Eight months later**

"How can anyone be that STUPID?" bellowed the prince.

He was rummaging feverishly through his clothes, searching under his bed, turning his bedchambers inside out.

"I'm sorry, Sire. I thought I put it in this cupboard."

"Well, it's not THERE, is IT?" screamed the prince again. "FIND IT!"

"Yes, my Lord," was the feeble reply.

Why on Earth he was even bothering to try out new servants every few weeks was beyond his capacity to understand. It was his father's wish, not his, to have someone waiting on him every minute of the day. What's more, there seemed no one in the entire kingdom that could do the job properly. How hard was it to bring the food on time, keep his room tidy, and keep away from the prince's personal belongings? Oddly, that last rule was the one that was giving him the most trouble.

Arthur was pulling the sheets from his bed frantically.

"I left it _there_," he cried out.

"I know, my Lord, and I put it away while I was making the bed. It seemed an odd place for a book, Sire."

The servant was looking at the floor as he spoke.

"Your job is not to _think_," said Arthur angrily, pointing his finger and shaking as though he was scolding a child.

The young servant recoiled even more.

"I'll find it, Sire," he muttered weakly.

The most apparent problem, of course, is that all the new servants were awed by his presence so that it was hardly possible to get dressed without the ceremonial curtsies, bowing and reverential staring at the floor.

"There it is, Sire," said the boy all of a sudden. "It was on _top_ of the cupboard."

The prince almost tore the book from the servant's hands. He then flipped it to make sure it wasn't damaged or that nothing was missing.

"Where's the map? There was a map with it," he growled between clenched teeth.

He saw the servant's face grow red as he scanned the room rapidly.

"It's here, Sire."

Arthur snatched the piece of parchment from the boy's hands. He was fuming. He couldn't even remember what this servant's name was; it would have been easier to scold him if he had known his name.

"Get out," he said, trying to calm himself.

"What about the banquet, Sire?"

"Get OUT!" yelled Arthur in spite of himself.

The boy still took the time to bow to him before leaving the bed chambers at a run.

His chamber was a mess now, of course, but he didn't really care. At least, the book was all right. Arthur silently wished that the young servant had not glimpsed at the black wings crest on the brown cover. He had not waited this long to be betrayed by a servant.

But all servants were the same.

"Sacked another one, I see?"

Arthur wheeled around to see Sir Gwaine standing on the threshold, looking smug in his complete ceremonial outfit.

Arthur shrugged, but the gesture only meant to give him the time to hide the book under a pillow.

"He was clumsy and useless," he snorted.

"You're not ready for the banquet," gasped Gwaine.

Arthur looked away. "I'm not coming."

Gwaine was walking towards him now. There were not too many knights who could enter his chambers without invitation, but Gwaine was one of them.

"There will be _women_," said the knight mischievously.

Arthur was only half-smiling.

"_Right_," said Gwaine. "You're not interested in _other_ women. Suit yourself. Gwen is a lucky girl."

"_Woman_," mumbled Arthur, correcting what he considered carelessness.

"What are you going to do?" snapped Gwaine. "Stay in your bedchambers and read? I didn't even know you could _read_."

Leaning towards the bed, Gwaine lifted the pillow smoothly and picked up the book that Arthur had been trying to hide.

"What is that?" said the knight, waving the book in Arthur's face.

The prince could feel another outburst of anger taking birth in his stomach. It was happening more and more often lately, and each time it happened he was forced to think about his father and how much he hated being like him. The anger and the dreariness had been tuned down before, but he had trouble controlling it now. His mind was always full of questions about how things were and how they should have been.

"It's just a book," he said wearily to Gwaine. "I borrowed it to Gaius."

The knight was looking at him maliciously. "Is it a book about _Merlin_?"

The name made the hair stand on Arthur's neck. It was always like that nowadays. He knew that Gwaine and Lancelot missed him, and Gaius too, but it was becoming tiresome to have so many people trying to cheer you up.

"No, it's not about Merlin!" he replied, trying to sound convincing. "It's… the family trees of our allies. I'm trying to learn about their history. It's my duty as crown prince to… know _stuff_."

There was a short moment of silence during which Gwaine kept glancing from Arthur to the book.

"It's been months," said Gwaine softly. "He's not coming back, you know, or he's not likely to anytime soon."

Arthur took the book and for a moment his eyes could not leave the cover. Somewhere between the pages, he had hidden a map. On the map there was a place, a valley, and a road to get there. Would he have the courage to go on the journey? He wasn't sure yet. He needed to speak to Gaius first.

"I'll tell your father I've seen you with a girl," said Gwaine with a grin on his face. Nobody else could lie to Uther as easily as Gwaine, and the king always believed every word.

As Gwaine put his hand on the door, Arthur felt compelled to add an important fact.

"Eight months," he murmured. "It has been eight months to the day."

Gwaine's smile as he closed the door was a sad one.


	10. Chapter 10: Book of the Dragonlords

**Author's note:**

**Thank you all for the reviews! I don't answer to all of them but it keeps me going.**

**Chapter 10: A Good Book**

He waited until the end of the evening to venture out of his bedchambers. When the corridors seemed mostly empty, and the guests at the banquet were well into the second or third course, he quietly closed the door behind him and started to walk up the stairs to the court physician's chambers. It wasn't a very long way but he couldn't be seen carrying a book therefore he chose to hide it under a chain mail.

When he pushed the door opened, the physician almost cried out in surprise.

"Sire! I wasn't expecting anyone at this late hour," said Gaius, standing up and bowing slightly.

"I didn't mean to startle you," said Arthur, bolting the door behind him.

He noticed immediately that Gaius was half-smiling and glancing in the direction of the wrapped up chain mail.

"If it is mending you need, I suggest you go to the smithy."

But the prince wasn't paying much attention to the joke. His eyes had darted towards the small door at the end of the chamber, the door on which he used to bang whenever he needed something done quickly. Somehow, Merlin was always there when he was looking for him. He always jumped and dropped whatever book he was reading, but he was also always ready to do whatever was required. Nobody, Arthur had recently discovered, could get anything done quite as rapidly as Merlin; when it _mattered_, of course, not the trivial things like mending clothes or getting his dinner. He had been assured by Gaius that magic was seldom used for chores and that had been a comforting thought.

"I miss him too, Sire," said Gaius softly.

Arthur's mind raced back to where he was and he started to remove the chain mail from the precious book. Gaius's expression went from mere amusement to total shock.

"Where _ever_ did you get that?" whispered the old physician in wonder.

"There were rumors… So I sent Lancelot on a quest, but that was some months ago. He had to go through five kingdoms to find this. He only just came back. Did you know a book like this existed?"

The physician was stroking the brown cover. "I thought they were all destroyed, that your father had made sure of that."

"It sounds like him," said Arthur darkly.

He sat down on a stool and gestured for Gaius to do the same. The light was dim in the physician's chambers and there was a small but steady blaze in the fireplace. It seemed like the perfect setting for the secrecy that the presence of the book required.

Arthur placed his two hands on the cover. "You know what this is then?" he asked Gaius, lowering his voice as low as he could.

"The Book of the Dragonlords," said Gaius, mimicking Arthur's whispering.

The prince turned the first page. He had never been found of reading. He had no patience for learning either; only training. Yet he had read this book from cover to cover in less than forty-eight hours. It wasn't a voluminous book and it didn't have much writing in it; it was mostly family trees. However the information in the first paragraphs was priceless.

"According to this," he began to say, "There were five original Dragonlord families. Each kingdom sent an heir to meet with the High Priests of the Old Religion and the princes were given the power of knowledge and the power to rule over the dragons. This alliance was supposed to put an end to a hundred years of war on both sides: dragons and men would be united through magic from that moment on."

Arthur turned the page and he couldn't help but smile at Gaius's reaction.

"I knew the legend of course, but to be able to read it with my eyes…" said the physician.

"Wait until you hear the rest," continued the prince eagerly. "These are the family trees and see that line? It is the trail of the Dragonlord gift through the generations."

He allowed Gaius a few minutes to study the blue line that was traced along the trees of names.

"It doesn't split," observed Gaius.

"That's right," said Arthur. It was definitely weird to be the teacher for once. "The gift is passed from father to son, but only to _one_ son, and not necessarily the eldest or the youngest."

"So it means…"

"The father can choose on whom to bestow the gift."

He saw Gaius's face turn into a frown as he peered at the line of the sacred gift from page to page.

"It breaks," he said.

"I noticed that too," said Arthur. "The gift can die out if the Dragonlord has no heir or if the gift is not passed down by choice."

Gaius leaned back and crossed his arms.

"We know that Merlin received the gift from Balinor, so I really don't see where this is going, Sire," he said stubbornly.

Arthur had to stop himself from bursting out in laughter. He flipped the pages until he found the family crests that had caught his attention before. And then he pushed the book in front of Gaius.

"Here they are," he announced. "These are the five Dragonlord houses." He was tracing the names with his fingers. "They were: Bagatelle, LeNoir, Veronus, Brittanicus and… _Pendragon_."

Gaius had been in shock before, but it couldn't be compared to the expression of consternation that he was wearing now.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he said weakly, taking out his glass to enlarge the name.

"The gift died out, you see?" said Arthur ardently. He found the blue line and showed Gaius the part where it ended. "King Ulrik Pendragon was a Dragonlord but he failed to pass down the gift to one of his three sons; this was about four generations before my father."

"I take it that you didn't know this," said Gaius.

Arthur shook his head. "They told me that King Ulrik went mad and challenged his first born son to a duel. The king was killed of course; he wasn't a match for the young prince. Now I know that there is another side to that story."

Gaius gave him one of his most comprehensive looks. "I don't think I need to explain to you the reasons why your father kept this a secret."

"Yes, I know," said Arthur, turning the page a little forcefully and making no effort to hide the bitterness in his voice. "Imagine if anyone were to find out that the noble house of Pendragon had anything to do with magic. With all those treaties we signed? We would go to war for sure."

Gaius was speechless, but Arthur was already showing him another page.

"What else do you notice here?" he asked the physician, pointing at another family crest.

But the old man kept looking at him dreamily, as though he was seeing him in a brand new light.

Arthur let out a sight of irritation. "The houses of Pendragon and Brittanicus are connected. Look!"

Gaius leaned closer to the pages. There was no mistaking it; the trees of Brittanicus and Pendragon were intertwined. Arthur glanced up at Gaius.

"We're cousins!" he declared.

Gaius was shaking his white head. "Most of the noble families share a connection through marriage. You are stretching that notion a little too far, Sire."

"Not that much," pointed out the prince, "the Brittanicus appear with my grandfather's name on my father's side."

Gaius sunk low in his chair while the idea settled in. It had taken a few hours to Arthur to acknowledge that there was any sense in what he was reading. It had taken him a while too to accept the fact that Balinor had been Merlin's father. Immediately after Merlin's departure, Arthur had cornered Gaius and demanded to know how it was possible that Merlin was a Dragonlord. He had listened to the story, never interrupting the old man, and then he had left without a word. He had wanted to break everything in sight that night; the betrayal was hurting more than he could express. Yet there was another part of him that was just amazed at the amount of courage that Merlin had shown. How hard it must have been to watch his father die, to have held his last breath, to have closed his eyes after only one day of knowing him. Arthur could only imagine the pain of not being able to share the grief with anyone. Somehow, that story had leveled his anger. In his heart, he couldn't call Merlin a traitor, though it was hard for him to explain why. His anger wasn't directed at Merlin; it had never really been. It was the secrets and lies about anything to do with magic that were bothering him. It was bothering him more and more every day.

He closed the book delicately.

"Why shouldn't I call him my cousin? All of the most ancient and noble families have ties with the five Dragonlord houses," he said softly. "Merlin has more noble blood in him through his father than all of my knights. Yet he has magic too. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

Gaius was staring at him with a look of fondness on his face. "It's only normal that you have all of those questions, Sire. You will be king soon."

"My father is not dead or dying. He's recovered."

Gaius rose to walk towards the fireplace. Arthur noticed at that moment how old and bent the physician was. The past few months of caring for Uther's shaken mind in addition to Merlin's absence had not been good to him.

"Morgana's betrayal…," Gaius began to say. There were shadows dancing on his pale face. "She may have won in a way. He is a changed man."

"He is fit to rule nonetheless," replied Arthur stubbornly.

Gaius glared at him meaningfully. "The people are counting on you to do the right thing when the time comes."

Arthur's reply died in his throat. He was holding the Book of the Dragonlords securely on his lap. The day when he would become king was coming nearer, but he knew that his mind would never be at peace if he didn't do this first.

"He shouldn't have had to make this decision for me," he said, rising from his seat to stand besides Gaius in front of the fireplace.

"Merlin's reaction was… unforeseeable," said the old man with a touch of sadness in his voice.

"If I can't protect him, what kind of king will I be? If I can't protect an idiot servant who has done no harm his entire life… Is Camelot to become a place that innocent people fear or fly from?"

Gaius glanced at him slightly in shock and the prince felt as though his intentions were drawn on his face. He could never hide anything from Gaius; the old man could see right through him.

"Are you aware of my father's new rule?" asked Arthur.

The physician nodded. "Anyone caught performing magic is to be killed on sight, without trial."

The words were like daggers through Arthur's heart. The notion that his father would go that far, would go against the laws of justice that were the foundations of Camelot was simply beyond him.

"I'm going to order the knights not to obey that rule," he announced. He knew that he was walking into a dark and difficult path, but he could not see himself doing otherwise.

"Sire, I feel deeply honored…"

Arthur raised his hand, stopping the old man in mid-sentence.

"_But_ I will not do it until I have set things right with Merlin. I don't need his approval _obviously_, but as weird as it may seem I need his… _wisdom_. He can show me the other side of the coin. If there is war and magic is involved, I'll be lost without a guide. Do you understand?"

Gaius bowed slightly. "It is perfectly clear, Sire."

"Do you really think he would have gone to _Aria's Cradle_?"

"I don't think we need to doubt Gwaine's word about that," said Gaius with certainty. "It makes sense that Merlin would seek to find out about his origins."

Arthur nodded. Without realizing it, he had made his way towards the door with his chain mail in hand. It was the last one that Merlin had polished before leaving Camelot eight months ago. The Book of Dragonlords was lying inconspicuously on Gaius's table; it looked no different from the other books in the physician's work environment and would fit in perfectly there.

"Keep it safe," he said with a meaningful glance. "My father must not find out that I have such a thing. I will leave instructions to Sir Leon and I hope that you can back up my story, but I cannot ask you to lie for me."

The physician bowed low. Being one of Uther's strong supporters had not altered the old man's values of loyalty and justice. Arthur knew that Gaius could be trusted, especially whereas Merlin was concerned. He had after all kept Merlin's magic a secret for years regardless of the dangers to himself.

"How will you find _Aria's Cradle_?" asked Gaius as Arthur had a hand on the doorknob.

Arthur couldn't help but smile. "I'll just follow the trail of clumsiness; Merlin should be right at the end of it."

And on those words, he left.


	11. Chapter 11: The Journey

**Author's note:**

**I love**** reviews. More please.**

**I apologize in advance for the long "travelling" chapter. Unfortunately, it is quite necessary.**

**The story continues…**

**Chapter 11: The long and winding road**

Packing for the journey had not taking him very long. He wanted to travel light so that he could cover as much distance as possible on horseback. Also, he didn't want to be recognized so all the cloaks and pieces of armor carrying the Pendragon crest had to stay behind. A tricky part had been to get Sir Leon away from the banquet for two minutes to expose his plan. Thankfully, Lancelot had been skulking about in the quieter corners of the castle, avoiding the crowd as usual. He had therefore entrusted Lancelot with the delicate message. Arthur had also caught a glimpse of Gwen who was bringing up water to the king's chambers. However, he wanted to avoid distractions as much as possible and get on with his quest, so speaking to her, even looking too long at her, was out of the question. Leaving Gwen in the dark about his intentions took more will than he knew he had.

It was well into the night when he walked out of the stables, dragging his horse, and wearing a grey traveling cloak over his shoulders. It was going to be a long journey, which was partly the reason why he was not welcoming the presence that he was now sensing behind his back.

"This habit of yours to spy on the crown prince could be seen as treason," he said smartly, knowing full well who he was speaking to.

Wheeling around to face the knight, he realized that he was not only addressing Gwaine but Lancelot as well; both of them had traveling clothes and were pulling horses quietly behind them.

"Don't look at me like that," said Lancelot, shrugging. "He didn't believe your story from the start."

Gwaine stepped in front of Lancelot, a smug smile on his face. "Did you really expect us to believe that you were going into all this trouble to get to Lady Vivien's chambers?"

Arthur felt his face grow red. "I had to tell my father something that he would believe," he said between gritted teeth.

Lancelot had already mounted his horse. He and Gwaine kept glancing at each other conspicuously.

"We're going to _Aria's Cradle_, then?" asked the younger knight.

Arthur was shaking his head. "No; I can't accept the two of you coming along with me. I need you to stay here. My father's new rule is going to create panic and…"

"Actually it won't," said Gwaine, smiling broadly as he was placing his bags on his horse's back. When he saw that neither Arthur nor Lancelot knew what he meant, he added, "Your father's is postponing the date at which this rule is coming into effect until your return. He feels he will have better support from the knights if you're here. When Sir Leon said that you were going away for a while, I thought I may point this fact out to the king and it worked. Come on, you can say it…"

Arthur looked at the two men who were so wholeheartedly committed to following him and he couldn't help but feel a deep respect and fondness. As a prince, he was not accustomed to friendship but this, whatever it was, felt like something of the sort.

"What would I do without you Gwaine?" said Arthur teasingly.

The knight was on his horse now. "Besides, nobody here knows more friendly inns than I do."

"That's certainly a relief," snorted Lancelot.

But all three of them were interrupted by another figure, cloaked and hooded, that was now standing close to Arthur.

There was no need to take out his sword. He knew who it was right away. Arthur's heart raced faster. Had Sir Leon's lie been heard throughout the castle already? What would she think of him?

"Gwen! You do know that I am not _really_ going to visit Lady Vivien, don't you? I would _never_… She means _nothing_…"

He could not finish his thought. He could only see _her_. The courtyard, the horses, Camelot, the moon and the stars, Gwaine and Lancelot, they had all momentarily disappeared.

Gwen took his hands between hers. He noticed that her fingers were cold and worn.

"Please tell Merlin how much we miss him and that we wish he will choose to come back," she murmured. "It's not the same without him; for the servants, I mean, and Gaius."

"I will," was all that Arthur could say.

He then kissed her on the cheek. It was the best he could do; otherwise, he wouldn't be able to leave.

The three horses sped up as they crossed the gate, the white mare in front. The knights had been informed that three riders would be leaving the city in the dead of night, and so Arthur, Lancelot and Gwaine were allowed to pass through unhindered.

As they came by a fork in the road, they slowed down their pace so that Arthur could decide which way.

"You do know where you're going, don't you?" asked Gwaine.

At that moment, the prince took out the map. It wasn't easy to read it by moonlight but he knew at least that they had a long way to go North East before actually needing directions. In fact, he had studied that map so intensely that he could almost recall it in his mind entirely. He had found it hidden inside the pages of the Book of Dragonlord, and immediately he had seen it as a sign that this journey was inevitable.

"Got anymore surprises like that?" said Gwaine teasingly.

"You have no idea," whispered the prince. And then he added, "I hope the two of you can keep up," as his horse rushed forward.

It wasn't a very complicated road. After passing through three kingdoms, they would come to a mountain path that would lead them south. At the end of that trail was an area marked as the Valley of the Wind which was just another name for _Aria's Cradle_. The road through the mountain was the key; without it the journey would take at least twice as long. The search for Merlin would begin in _Aria's Cradle_ but it was possible that they would have to go further, and that was mostly the reason why Arthur wanted to make haste.

For the next three days, they rode almost without rest, sleeping under the stars and speaking little. Around the campfire, Arthur told them about all that he had read in the Book of Dragonlords, including all the connections between Brittanicus and Pendragon, but unfortunately he couldn't answer all of their questions. They were mostly curious about the extent of a Dragonlord's power but the book contained nothing of the sort. They speculated about Merlin's gift more than once, but Arthur didn't have much patience for that topic. After while the tiredness settled in and the evenings became quieter. When they spoke, it was only to complain about the weather or to marvel at Arthur's inability to pack or to cook.

On the fourth day, they had run out of food so they stopped at an inn in which Arthur purchased a few additional blankets and socks and Gwaine got into a considerable amount of trouble. After that, they went from inn to farmhouse to tavern, sleeping in beds when they could and under the stars when it wasn't raining. Their clothes became so dirty, thorn and wet that the job of hiding who they were became much easier. On the whole, Arthur was glad to have company for such a long journey. Lancelot had little conversation but he could be relied on to find food on the spot and cook it nicely on the campfire. Gwaine had his sense of humor to keep their spirits high and he was always welcomed wherever he went whether he was known or not. He could keep a constant flow of stories during the long nights, which kept Arthur from wondering too much about what he was going to say to Merlin if and when they found him.

On the seventh day, they had reached the bottom of the mountains and the ground was going steadily upwards. They took a fork in the road which was indicated on the map. After a while, it seemed to have led them to a dead end but Arthur was convinced otherwise. They decided to camp in a clearing on the side of the mountain and by nightfall Arthur's bad mood at being lost had turned into sheer grumpiness.

"Maybe we should go back and try the other road," offered Lancelot for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"That will lead us around the mountain and too far up north," replied Arthur. His eyes were fixed on the map. "The path is there," he added, pointing at the lines on the parchment. "I don't understand why it's not _here_."

"What about these words?" said Gwaine.

Arthur had considered the symbols around the map as well but they were meaningless to him.

"It's in the Old Language," he said.

The comment made Gwaine jump in alert. "Read it!" he cried out.

"You have to be joking," snorted Lancelot.

"You're a descendant of the five Dragonlord houses, Arthur. It could be some kind of spell. You should read it out loud."

They all stared at each other for a while and then Arthur glanced at the wall of mountain that was rising before them. _Why not_, he thought.

It wasn't easy for him to read something that didn't sound like anything he knew, but he managed to utter all of the words. He had felt foolish before, but this was a new level of awkwardness for him. And just when he was about to give up, which wasn't improving his mood, Gwaine and Lancelot burst out laughing.

"You should see your face," said Gwaine, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

When they went to sleep, the knights were still laughing.

On the following morning, at sunrise, when Arthur opened his eyes suddenly the path was there. It was as though the side of the mountain had split apart to let them through. It was even wide enough for the horses to ride in single file.

"You should see _your_ faces now," said Arthur smartly, glancing back at the two knights who were rubbing their eyes in disbelief.

"No one could have expected this," said Lancelot in wonder as he took the first step into the path.

"You can go ahead and tell Uther that his son produced magic if you want," said Gwaine. "I'm going to stick to the story of Lady Vivien."

"It could be a trap," warned Lancelot who was always the first to point out their oath to protect Arthur.

"I don't care if it's a trap," replied the prince. "It opened for a reason. I'm going in there to find Merlin."

The others could not argue with that.

The road through the mountain wasn't even as long as Arthur had expected. By the end of the afternoon, they were walking into wide open ground with sunlight over their heads and green grass under their feet. The Valley of the Wind was spread out before them. It was a large enclave surrounded by mountains as far as the eyes could see. The air was warm and it smelled of parsley and lavender. At the bottom of the valley there was a large lake mirroring the sky.

"It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen," murmured Lancelot.

Gwaine was unmovable. "I'll agree with you if we can find an inn."

It was a little tricky to guide their horses down into the valley especially with their tired legs but after a few hours they finally managed to find the inn that Gwaine for longing for. It was a small sized establishment on the side of the road, clearly aiming to offer food and shelter to the travelers from the southern path. The air smelled of fresh bread and roasted meet. The only odd addition to the place was a circle of white rocks around the main house. It gave the impression that the rocks were sticking out of the ground like teeth.

"That's not a very effective fence, is it?" said Gwaine as he leapt over the harmless wall.

"It depends on what you want to keep out," said Lancelot darkly.

When they pushed the doors opened, about ten or twelve pairs of curious eyes turned in their direction. Arthur and his two knights were used to stares by now and they did not waste time to find a comfortable table and order three meals of whatever was available. The innkeeper was a man with a shaved head and many missing teeth, who kept warning them about the price of things.

"Is there any mead to go with that lovely diner?" asked Gwaine when he was halfway through his meal.

"Of course, if you can afford it," sneered the innkeeper.

"I'll have some red wine," commanded the prince.

The replies that he got were a low growl from the innkeeper and a simultaneous nudge from Gwaine and Lancelot.

"Always with the _wine_," complained Gwaine. "Can't you drink mead like everybody else?"

The innkeeper was still staring at them blankly.

"If you want a room for the night, it will cost you extra," he mumbled. "And we haven't got no wine."

Gwaine's reaction was to roll his eyes up. "Is that so? Then why should we stay here?" he said casually. "Is there any other inn nearby? I'm not sure at all that your establishment can accommodate the three of us, not if you don't have any wine."

"Suit yourself," snorted the innkeeper. "You ain't going nowhere with the curfew so you can either pay for a room or sleep on a chair."

Lancelot moved to the edge of his seat. "Curfew?" he asked.

"_Curfew_," repeated the shaved man, enunciating clearly as though Lancelot was a stupid child. "It means that there ain't no one going out after sundown."

"That's interesting," murmured Arthur to Gwaine and Lancelot.

He was stroking the hilt of his sword absent-mindedly when he noticed a small boy of maybe ten or eleven staring at him through the bars of an empty chair.

"They're not like us. They _are_ allowed to go out," said the boy timidly.

The innkeeper made disapproving growl and left without a word.

"You don't have to be afraid of us. Why do you think we are allowed to go out while everybody else isn't? " inquired Arthur, aware of the uneasy stirring around them.

"You're knights, aren't you?"

Gwaine and Lancelot smiled conspicuously and the boy's timid demeanor turned into surprise and excitement.

"The rule is that only the knights are allowed to go out after nightfall," he explained. "Well… the knights and Lord Merlin, of course."

Arthur almost choked. "_Lord_ Merlin," he managed to say.

The boy seemed a little unsure about what he had just said.

"Speak," said Lancelot softly. "You don't have to fear us."

The boy relaxed a little and then he came next to Lancelot. The knight offered him a piece of bread which brought a smile back to the young face.

"He's new so you might not have heard of him," said the boy. "He had the idea for the curfew and he has magic, that's for sure. He's the new Dragonlord and Lord Balinor was his father. Some people reckon he can lift the curse. Others say he's just an outlander but we have to address him properly anyways, don't we?"

Arthur exchanged a glance with Gwaine and Lancelot.

"So what do you address him as exactly?" asked Arthur innocently. He wanted to hear it again just to be sure.

"He's Lord Merlin, of course. Lord Merlin Brittanicus."


	12. Chapter 12: Close Encounter

**Author's note:**

**Thanks so much for the reviews. Please don't be mad if I don't answer each one because I want to get as much writing done as possible. This story is all in my head and I can't wait to get it out.**

**Now that the traveling is done, it's time to find **_**Lord**_** Merlin **_**Brittanicus**_**. That's so cool, isn't it?**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter 12: Close Encounter**

Arthur was already outside and untying his sword from his horse's saddle when Gwaine and Lancelot caught up with him.

"I know you don't really care about the curfew," said Lancelot bluntly, "but to go riding at dusk in a forest that's unknown to us is not reasonable."

Arthur was pulling hard on the straps of his belt to secure his sword. "I'm done being reasonable," he snapped back. "You heard him! The curfew; it's because of a curse. If there's any trouble around here you can bet that Merlin is involved. I'm not waiting until someone brings the news that he's dead."

Arthur regretted saying the dreadful word almost straight away. _Dead_. He couldn't bear the thought that he might never see Merlin again, that their lasts words had been shouts of anger. He hated that thought even though he knew that it was all really… _ridiculous_.

These feelings were absurd beyond belief. He was Prince Arthur and he was on a quest. This wasn't only about finding Merlin; it was a journey that would decide the fate of Camelot. Ultimately, there was a choice to be made. At the end of this trip, he would either side with his father's new rule of killing sorcerers on sight, or he would take action against it. Finding Merlin was going to help him make that choice. He couldn't allow himself to get emotional.

_Calm down_, he thought as he stared into his horse's eyes. _It must be this place with the curfew and the curse. It's uncanny. I wish Gwen was here. _

Lifting his chin, he grabbed two torches and passed them on to Gwaine and Lancelot. The two knights had taken out their swords as well.

"We have about one hour to search until it becomes too dark," said the prince. "I say we make good use of that time and come back here afterwards."

Gwaine threw him one skeptical look.

"For a moment there, I thought you were following your gut feeling, not that perfect little crown prince's head of yours," said the knight dryly.

Lancelot shook his head in disapproval of Gwaine's attitude. "Don't worry; I'm sure we'll find him," he said to the prince, "even if it's not tonight. At least we know that he's here."

"Of course he's here," snorted Gwaine. "Didn't I tell you he would be?"

Arthur's eyes were already fixed on the road. It was winding down towards the lake and the dark outline of a castle could be seen beyond the trees. It wasn't a huge fortress with only four towers and high walls, but it was well situated close to the lake.

It was dusk now and if they hurried, they could search a good part of the woods and perhaps even reach the lakeshore before it became too dark. He had in mind to get to the castle and spend the night there instead of the inn, but he couldn't let Gwaine and least of all Lancelot know of his real plan. At this point, an argument would only be a waste of time.

"We will come back here for the horses," said Lancelot as though he was reading Arthur's mind. "We can go on foot and carry torches. That will give us more time. Come on. If Merlin's party is out as well, they will be carrying lights and we will spot them easily."

"You mean _Lord_ Merlin," corrected Gwaine mockingly.

The road led them down a steep hill and into the heart of the forest. They left the fading light of day behind them as they stepped under the roof of the trees. The woods were dense on each side of them but the path could be followed easily which was a relief. The further they were walking and the quieter the forest was. After of while of going always straight ahead, Arthur began to feel jittery. Not a bird could be heard, nor the sound of breaking twigs and rustling leaves. The growing silence was definitely not a good sign. And from the look on their faces, Lancelot and Gwaine had the same feeling.

"What do you reckon this curse is about?" asked Gwaine in a low voice in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

"Couldn't you have asked that _before_ we decided to search the forest in the dark?" hissed Lancelot. "Arthur, we won't find him tonight. We've walked too far. We should go back."

But Arthur's senses were on alert. Something was stirring around them. He knew it even though he didn't have any proof yet. He was a good hunter and he knew when he was being hunted. As he bent low to put his hand on the pine-needles that were covering the path, his fingers found a different texture and it confirmed what he was already thinking. It was a long string of rough fur.

"We're not alone," he murmured to the two knights besides him.

Gwaine sighed in irritation. "The next time you want to go into a forest that's cursed, remind me to…"

He did not finish his sentence. There was movement in the trees in front of them. Something was moving in the dark, just beyond the glow of their torches.

Gwaine and Lancelot took up their swords in their free hands. And as they moved, the presence in front of them made a low growl.

"That can't be good," whispered Gwaine.

Arthur's eyes darted towards the path. He could see gleaming between the trees. There was water close by and it was shimmering under the moonlight. _The lake_, thought Arthur.

"Run," he said urgently. "Run towards the lake. Run!"

Arthur could run fast in a forest that he knew, but here it was a lot trickier. As he jumped over a tree trunk, his feet got stuck in a branch and he fell forward on the path. Lancelot immediately took his arm to pull him up, but the beast had caught up with them. It leapt over Lancelot and for a moment Arthur could only see a large mouth filled with sharp teeth. He slashed his sword and heard a small yelp. Rolling on his back to get in a crouched position, he found himself face to face with an enormous red-eyed wolf. The animal was panting and growling.

And then, from the corner of his eye Arthur saw Gwaine rush forward, his sword in a perfect attack position. He sliced once and twice and the creature was forced to take a few steps back.

"Torch!" yelled Gwaine.

Lancelot gave him what he was asking. Dropping his sword on the ground, Gwaine took the two torches and started to make wide gesture in front of the animal's eyes.

"Gwaine?" said Lancelot, unsure of what he should do next.

It was obvious that the beast was bigger than any wolf they had ever seen. It's red eyes and the putrid smell that it cast around them was enough to give Arthur shivers. There was no way around it. The only solution was to kill it.

Launching himself forward, Arthur swung his sword into a wide circle and thrust its blade into the beast's side. The creature recoiled, growled, howled, yelped, writhed, limped, wailed and finally it fell on its side and became quite still.

"What was that?" murmured Lancelot as he took his torch back from the other knight's hand.

"I'm not waiting around to find out," replied Gwaine.

Indeed, there was no time to waste. Arthur could hear the sound of broken branches. Wolves always hunted in packs. They would be here in any second.

Arthur nodded to Gwaine and Lancelot, and then he wheeled around, ready to sprint towards the lake.

The last thing he had expected was to bump into a person. The impact made him fall to the ground on his back like some stupid child tripping over his own feet. Then there was the distinctive ring of many swords being unsheathed. Arthur glanced around to see at least five or six blades pointing directly at him.

And in the middle of the circle, starring down at him with a look of shock on his face was the only person in the world who could catch him so thoroughly unawares.

"_Arthur_?"


	13. Chapter 13: Home of the Dragonlord

**Author's note:**

**Thanks for the reviews. It's always to hear one's work is appreciated. **

**There is a lot in this chapter. I hope you enjoy.**

**Chapter 13**

Arthur felt numb. His mind was racing to find coherent words to say.

_Merlin. Knocked over by Merlin. Merlin isn't dead. Merlin is _here_. Follow the trail of clumsiness. Lord Merlin Brittanicus. He's _here_._

The silhouette in front of him looked so much taller than it should. Arthur noticed the high boots, the chain mail and the sword, all of them so uncharacteristic of Merlin. Their eyes met, but no words came out.

"Gwaine! Lancelot!" gasped Merlin, rushing to his friends to give them a quick brotherly hug.

_Get up_, the prince told himself irritably. _You look stupid. Just get up!_

"Well, I see that your manners haven't improved," he let out in his most arrogant tone as he was struggling awkwardly. His sword had managed to get stuck under a tree root somehow.

Suddenly, a strong muscular hand grabbed him and pulled him up. Arthur landed heavily on his two feet only to find himself starring at a man the size of a giant.

"What are you doing here?" he heard Merlin say directly to Gwaine and Lancelot. "Is anything wrong? Gaius?"

Arthur was painfully aware that he was being ignored on purpose, which only made him angrier.

"Gaius is fine," said Lancelot straight away.

"Not thanks to you," snorted Arthur.

Lancelot threw him a disapproving glare. "He's worried. We were _all_ worried…" said the knight softly.

They were cut off by a long howling in the distance. The knights all turned to stare at the fallen wolf. They were all dressed in black and chain mail, carrying torches and swords at the ready. They had the look of men who were on a hunt.

"Your timing isn't great," said Merlin, lowering his voice.

"No kidding," growled the prince.

The other knights were standing in semi-circle around Merlin, except for the huge one who was positioned next to Arthur. The heir to the throne of Camelot had never felt so unimportant in his life.

"What's going on?" said Gwaine in a serious tone.

"That would take a long time to explain," murmured Merlin. "Let's just say for now that you just made the rest of the pack very angry."

"Not me," corrected Gwaine. "_Arthur_."

They're eyes met again as another low howling filled the air. Merlin broke the stare first. He gestured to the tall knight next to Arthur.

"Gregory, you will take Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot to the keep," said the warlock commandingly. "The rest of us will draw the wolves away from here."

Arthur was in shock again. Merlin giving orders just didn't feel natural. But from the way the others were nodding in approval, the prince did not dare disagree.

"Let me help you," said Gwaine with his sword well in hand. His usual nonchalance seemed momentarily forgotten.

Merlin nodded and then he turned to Lancelot.

"Go with Gregory and Arthur," he said. "We will return before the night is over."

_This is ridiculous_, thought Arthur, annoyed beyond belief. It couldn't be happening. Merlin couldn't give orders. Merlin could hardly put one foot in front of the other without making a fool out of himself. He was just a servant. Merlin should be joking around and making witty comments, not wearing black and pretending to be an arrogant _prat_.

"I am not letting you out of my sight," burst out Arthur, aware that he was almost yelling.

"This isn't up for discussion," cut in Merlin.

"I won't receive orders from you," snapped back Arthur.

But at that precise moment there was more howling and barking and it was getting closer. They could hear the branches break under the weight of the wolves. A cold wind swept through the forest and Arthur felt the hair stand up at the back of his neck.

"Go," said Merlin with a glance at Lancelot.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" shouted Arthur.

But Merlin was unmovable. He wasn't even looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the giant knight.

"I don't care how you do it, knock him on the head if you have to, but you will take Prince Arthur to the keep," said Merlin forcefully.

The prince felt the strong grip on his arm again.

"Come with me, Prince Arthur," mumbled the tall knight in a low pitch voice, and then they were off.

Arthur struggled, kicked, pulled, pushed, but there was no getting away from Gregory. They were making their way at a fast pace and Merlin was no longer in sight. Lancelot was following but he had trouble keeping up with the huge leaps.

"Drop torch," called back the giant knight.

Lancelot did as he was told and dropped the torch on the ground where its light instantly died out. The knight Gregory did the same and now they were making their way in the dark. Arthur felt as though someone had put out both of his eyes. Gregory was pulling him stubbornly with unbelievable strength.

"I can't see anything!" cried out Lancelot.

"Don't worry. Almost there," replied the tall knight.

Arthur's arm felt as though it was being pulled out of its socket. They kept running in the dark until the howling and barking of the wolves grew faint. And then, all of a sudden, Arthur and Lancelot were being shoved into an opening in a high wall of stone. Straight ahead into a long and narrow corridor they went, and then up the stairs. The walls were so close that Arthur could hear the clanging of his sword and armor on the stone.

When finally they reached the top of the stairs, they came into a large room that was dimly lit. Gregory pushed them on until Lancelot fell on his knees and said, "Enough!"

Arthur wheeled around. A loud howling filled the air again. Glancing rapidly around the room, the prince realized that part of the wall on his right was caved in. A pale moonlight was shining through. The wolf cries were coming in high and clear.

Without even thinking about it, he took a step back towards the door.

"Stay here," said the tall knight with a strong accent.

Arthur felt his boiling temper rising. "No, I will _not_ stay here. There are men in trouble out there."

The giant knight was pushing him back with only one strong hand.

"You stay here or I knock you on head," mumbled Gregory.

Lancelot was in front of Arthur before the prince had time to blink. "I'm sure Merlin was only joking about that," said the younger knight.

The giant Gregory snorted loudly. "Merlin no joking. _Ever_."

"It's fine. We're not going anywhere," said Lancelot.

Arthur was amazed at the control in his knight's voice. The other seemed to relax.

"I get Galahad," he said bluntly.

He disappeared through a wooden door on the left-end side of the room.

"I do not think we need to fear them," said Lancelot reassuringly with a friendly hand on Arthur's shoulder.

The prince was still in the process of managing his anger. He let out a long sigh and started to pace impatiently around the hall.

Lancelot was shaking his head slightly in dismay. "It brings into perspective the splendor of Camelot, does it not?"

Arthur cast a circular look around the large chamber and noticed for the first time that it was actually the Great Hall. On his left, the wall was high and one could easily tell that it had once been beautiful. Five long banners had been drawn directly on the stone. It was the five Dragonlord houses, including Pendragon, but now the paint was scratched and faded. The door through which Gregory had disappeared lay below a large round golden shield with a black dragon painted on the front. In the center of the Hall, there was an open fireplace with rocks and logs around it to use as chairs. At the end of the Hall, where the throne should have been, there was only a pile of hay and a few blankets.

But the most desolate sight was the caved in wall on the right-end side. It was as though a large boulder had landed on the roof and brought down that part of the keep along with it. Where in Camelot there were beautiful stained glass windows, here it was a pile of rocks bigger than a man's height.

As Lancelot was working on the fire, an inscription on the wall caught Arthur's attention. Next to the opening on the wall, there was an imprint on the stone in the shape of a sword. There was black around it as though it had been burnt by fire. And above the outline of the absent sword, there were a few roughly shaped words. A rush of sadness filled Arthur's heart as he read the two lines.

_Here is the Last Home of the Dragonlords._

_There is no Hope for the World of Men_


	14. Chapter 14: Galahad

**Author's note:**

**There is a new name in this chapter and it's **_Galahad_**. Yes; it is a knight of the round table. But I'm doing just like they are doing in the show and making it my own. I just hope there won't be a different Galahad in Season 4… But if there is I won't be mad.**

**Also, Merlin is slightly darker in the coming few chapters but there are reasons so don't throw me stones yet.**

**Thanks for the reviews.**

**Chapter 14: The Curse**

Arthur was brought out of his reverie by a new presence in the Hall. A man was walking towards him with irregular footsteps. He was limping and leaning heavily on a stick. The giant knight Gregory was following him like a watchdog.

An intense, pitiless knot had taken birth in Arthur's stomach after reading the inscription on the stone wall. The resulting flow of emotions was overwhelming and somewhat new to him. _Hopelessness_ was not part of his vocabulary. He needed to understand just what had happened to this kingdom.

"Who are you? What the Hell is going on here?" he bellowed to the newcomer.

"I'm Sir Galahad," said the limping man. "I'm a knight, though not a very good one, as you can certainly see."

"I'm Lancelot," said the younger knight, "and this is…"

"I know who you are. Gregory just told me," cut in Galahad. "You shouldn't be here. Don't you know there is a curse?"

Arthur rushed forward to face this new person.

"I asked you a question, Knight," he growled.

Lancelot was more tempered. "We just had a close encounter with your curse and we killed at least one of them. It was a _very large_ wolf," he said.

Galahad's sneer turned into a playful grin. "You're the lucky ones, then," he said happily. "It could have been worst; you can trust me on that. Still, it would have been wiser to stay at the inn. When you passed through the village, didn't they tell you there was a curfew?"

The knight was limping towards the round fireplace. Seeing that Arthur was beside himself, Lancelot decided to follow the other, unsteady knight.

"We didn't see any village," said Lancelot as he helped Galahad sit down on a log. "We came through the mountain path."

Sir Galahad looked from Lancelot to Arthur in wonder. "That way is shut. How did you…?"

Arthur had already pulled out the map from under his tunic. It was the only belonging that he had not left with the horses at the inn. He felt a weird attachment to the map; he almost snatched it back when Galahad made a movement towards it.

"I did not think that I would lay eyes on such a thing in my lifetime," mused the knight, the wonder still in his voice. "Then again, strange things are happening around here that shouldn't be happening."

"Do you mean the curse?" asked Lancelot.

There was not much age difference between Lancelot and Galahad, Arthur noticed, but their appearance held many contrasts. Lancelot's face was delicate; Galahad's skin was sun burnt and scarred. Lancelot had the strength of youth and he could maintain his back straight even on the unconventional chair. Galahad, on the other hand, was hunched, leaning with his hands on his knees, whether it was because of his injury or some other burden, Arthur could not be sure.

"I don't mean the curse actually. I mean _Merlin_."

_Now this is a tale I want to hear_, thought Arthur eagerly. He took a seat opposite Galahad.

"The curse has been here a long time," explained the knight, a dark look on his face. "When Balinor's father realized what Uther was doing to the dragons and the Dragonlords, he grew angry and fierce. He wanted to send the Great Dragon Kilgarrah to destroy Camelot. But Balinor had such a deep hatred of violence and war… Well, as you imagined, there was an argument between the father and the son, at the end of which Balinor left. The King was dying and he wanted to settle his affairs. He named his cousin as his heir and announced to all that he would pass on the Dragonlord gift to his son, regardless of their disagreement. But Balinor had already left to try and smooth things out in Camelot, along with all of the others heirs with whom Balinor had grown up. On the day of the announcement, at the end of the banquet in fact, a messenger came in and declared that Uther had killed all the Dragonlords and that the great dragons were no more. The King went into a fiery rage and destroyed all that stood in his way. He went to the Black Lake and called upon the Old Powers and some say that is how the curse came to be. After that, the King returned to this Hall, carved these words into the stone, and thrust his own blade into his heart. As he lay dying, he placed the sword on the wall and he sealed the weapon there with deep magic. And no one has been able to pick up that sword ever since. Well… no one except Merlin."

"Why am I not surprised?" said Arthur, grinning.

Shadows from the fire were dancing on Galahad's face.

"This I know mostly from my father. I was only a young lad at the time. They are all leaving the Valley now. When the old king is dead, _Aria's Cradle_ will be no more. The first home of the Dragonlords shall be the last. No one wants to live in a place that's cursed. Not even Merlin can change that."

The knight let out a long sigh and in it there was great sorrow.

"Merlin has magic," said Lancelot stubbornly. "He is a Dragonlord too. Surely he can lift the curse that his _grandfather_ put forth."

The other knight was shaking his head. "No," he retorted. "The darkness had taken hold. What used to be random occurrences happens now every night. Merlin needs to understand that he can do no more for the race of dragons and Dragonlords. But he is so… _stubborn_."

"Tell me about it," said Arthur.

Galahad was staring meaningfully at Arthur now. "Merlin will die if he stays here. This darkness… it is not good for him. He must go back to Camelot."

Arthur leaned back on his chair. "How well is he taking that news?"

"Not very well," growled the knight.

There were interrupted by a loud screech.

"Wolves don't sound like that," said Arthur, jumping to his feet.

Escalading the crumbled stones only took him a few seconds. As he stood on the pile of rocks, more screeching filled the night sky. And then he saw them. Flying high above the lake, five winged creatures were circling like birds of prey who have found their next meal. Their huge bat-like wings were casting shadows over the pale moon.

"What are they?" whispered Arthur.

As he wheeled around, eager to hear the answer, he saw that several guards and the giant knight Gregory had returned to the Hall. Galahad was gesturing to them and giving orders.

"Open the gates! Allow in anyone who seeks shelter. Get to the tunnels and let in the knights!"

The level of urgency had evidently reached a peak as more people started to pour into the Great Hall. Women and scared-looking children came in with blankets and settled themselves on the piles of hay at the end of the room.

"What is going on?" asked Arthur, coming down from the rocks.

"_Daemons_. Creatures of dark magic. They don't come out too often but they're bringer of death," said Galahad as he was showing the way to two elderly women.

Arthur glanced around. The Great Hall was filling up rapidly. He even spotted a few knights who had just dropped their swords to the floor and were now panting and wiping their brows.

Arthur wrestled his way towards the small group of men.

"Where's Merlin?" he bellowed. "And where's _Gwaine_?"

The knights were shaking their heads.

"You left them out there?" yelled Lancelot, outraged.

"You don't understand!" said Galahad. "Merlin doesn't allow us to go against the daemons. It requires powerful magic to repel them. If you go out there, you'll only get him killed."

"Well, I don't care!" replied Arthur.

And without further argument, he took up his sword and rushed towards the caved in wall. He didn't care about his own safety. He didn't care about what was out there. He was Arthur Pendragon and he wasn't going to coward in a keep with the women and children while there were men in danger out there; especially if one of them was Merlin. He'd never hear the end of it.

"Arthur! I'll go! You stay here where it's safe!" Lancelot was shouting above the screeching and the screaming.

But that did not slow down Prince Arthur.

And then he heard, _"__Swefe nu!"_

And then, he felt extremely drowsy.

And then… he fell into a deep, deep sleep.


	15. Chapter 15: The Curse

**Chapter 15**

Arthur Pendragon awoke with a start. He had been dreaming of Camelot and Guinevere. Merlin had been in his dream as well, sitting next to him on the Round Table with a sort of bright aura shining through him. It was quite a beautiful light until it began to fade and suddenly Merlin was no longer there and Arthur came to an abrupt awakening.

The first thing that he noticed was pain on his lower back and a bump on his head. Then he realised that he was lying on the hard stone floor with nothing but a small pile of hay for a pillow. He had been put there with his chain mail still on, which could explain the soreness to the upper part of his body.

"Good, you're awake," said Galahad's voice and Arthur distinctively heard the irregular footsteps coming towards him.

"I fell asleep?" he asked as he was sitting up. His brain still felt a little drowsy.

"I'm really sorry about that, Sire," said Galahad. He handed a piece of bread to the prince. "I only know a few spells and that's because it was my father's wish that I studied them. I don't usually use magic, but you were going out there when Merlin especially told us all to stay in so…"

The recollections of the previous night began to flow and Arthur sprang to his feet.

"_Merlin_! Gwaine! Where are they?"

"Calm down, your royal jumpiness!"

Arthur's eyes immediately found the speaker. Gwaine was sitting with his back and his head against the wall. He kept his eyes closed. Arthur had never seen the knight looking so tired and weary. He braced himself for what he was about to hear.

"Merlin?" he asked.

"He's fine," said Gwaine, opening only one eye to scrutinize Arthur. He then added, "I knew that he would hesitate to use magic in front of you that's why I offered to stay. A good thing I did too. That's a Hell of a nasty curse."

"Merlin's tried many spells," continued Galahad, "but the daemons are the embodiment of the dark magic that lurks _within_ the Black Lake. There isn't much hope to ever get rid of them. He thought that the Great Dragon would help, but it seems that Kilgarrah is too far away to answer to Merlin's call."

"But where is he?"

Arthur was glancing around the Great Hall. Most of the refugees from last night had gone, but there were a few women cooking on the round fireplace and a few servants making the place tidy again.

"Apparently he sent him to Camelot to look after you," answered Galahad meaningfully.

"Not the dragon! _Merlin_!" replied Arthur, slightly irritated.

The knight seemed taken aback. "He's sleeping I guess. It's been a long night. We don't have many rooms but Merlin took the Court Physician's chambers in the Western Tower. We haven't had a physician for a long time."

Arthur was more than irritated now. "Does he think that he can be Dragonlord, knight, sorcerer and physician as well?" burst out the prince.

"No, actually," said Galahad. "He would be a great physician if given the chance, but the villagers are too afraid of him."

"Afraid of _Merlin_?" repeated Arthur indignantly. "How can anyone be afraid of _Merlin_?"

It was Gwaine who gave the answer. "You haven't seen what I saw last night. Even _I_ was afraid of him." When Arthur only gave a derisive snort, Gwaine sat up straight to look the prince in the eyes. "He's more powerful than we imagined, and those things out there, these daemons, they _know_. It's like they want to _feed_ on his magic. He can't keep doing this every night. He'll _die_."

"What do you suggest?" Arthur asked Gwaine.

The conversation with Galahad was resurfacing in his mind. _Merlin needs to understand that he can do no more for the race of dragons and Dragonlords_. However the prince could not bring himself to accept that there was no hope for these people. It was as though the caved in wall for the bleak inscription were speaking to him, pointing him the way. But what of Merlin? Was it his destiny to lift the curse of his grandfather? Would he die trying?

"Here's an idea: talk to him," said Arthur's knight as he leaned back on the wall and closed his eyes again. "But, you know, give him a few hours of sleep first. Oh and Lancelot told me to tell you that he's going to spend some time with Merlin's knights. Those were his words. _Merlin's_ knights. Imagine that…"

After that, Gwaine fell silent and his heavy breathing rapidly turned into snores. His head slumped sideways and Arthur brought him a blanket.

"_What_?" he said grumpily as Galahad threw him a strangely surprised look.

"Nothing. I just think you're one strange prince, but in a good way. Merlin said you were special…"

Arthur didn't let Galahad finish that thought.

"Where is the king? I should be presented to him. Don't you have any form of court ceremonial?"

"The king no longer leaves his bedchamber," answered Galahad, stroking his bearded chin. "He is too old and too sick. His son, Lord Brunor, rarely leaves his father's room. Brunor should have been named crown prince some time ago but he married a farmer's daughter against his father's wish. There is a rumour now that, being a Brittanicus and a Dragonlord, Merlin may become the heir to the throne."

"_Merlin_!" gasped Arthur. It seemed to be a reaction that he was having more and more often.

"I just said '_may_ become'. It doesn't change the fact that Merlin cannot stay here," replied Galahad sternly.

"_Right_… Excuse me."

It was too much. He couldn't even believe that he was having this conversation. His mind felt numb. It was trying to tie in important words together to paint the picture of a person but it just didn't make sense. Sorcerer, Dragonlord, cousin, knight, Lord, heir: these couldn't be words to describe _Merlin_. Merlin was a servant. He was a friend. He was the annoying little brother allowed to tag along. Or was he? Maybe he had changed? How could he know? They hadn't even spoken yet. But he couldn't just burst into his chambers. That wouldn't be… _appropriate_. After all, he was just a guest here.

He got up in search of some breakfast instead. He knew he would be able to speak to Merlin soon and the few hours ahead were just what he needed to think about what he was going to say.

He had just finished a particularly delicious slice of cheese that one of the women had brought him – blushing and giggling in the process – when the giant Gregory burst in through the wooden door under the golden shield. The knight immediately rushed towards Galahad and they spoke rapidly in hushed voices. _That doesn't sound good_, thought Arthur at once.

Galahad was limping towards him now.

"What's going on?" said the prince as all eyes turned to him.

"_Merlin_," said Galahad as though it held all the answers.

He stepped inadvertently on his bad leg and his face twisted in pain.

"Follow Gregory. I will catch up with you," commanded the knight.

The prince was not going to let the large Gregory pull his arm out of its socket _again_ so he dashed through the door first and up the stairs to his right, aiming for the Western Tower.

He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. Galahad's face as he had said _Merlin_… There had to be something wrong.

"Second door," called Gregory from behind him.

As soon as he saw the door marked _Court Physician_, Arthur pushed it open without knocking.

It was as though he was back in Camelot. He had stepped out of a totally strange place and into a world that he knew. The room was exactly like Gaius's chambers. There were tables of potions and opened books everywhere. There was a strong smell of herbs and burnt bread. And in a corner near the fireplace, there was a tall man with a blue tunic and a shaved head, and he was holding down Merlin's struggling body strongly by the shoulders.

"Who are you?" yelled the man on top of Merlin's wincing and moaning. "I sent for Galahad!"

"Him _Prince Arthur_, Sire," said Gregory who had just arrived as well.

Arthur's eyes were fixed on Merlin.

"Right then! I'm Lord Brunor," bellowed the tall man. "Now that we are introduced, you can help me hold him down."

But Arthur was rooted on the spot. A painful memory had returned to him in a flash: Merlin twisting in pain, Merlin struggling to breathe, Merlin poisoned by the Mortaeus Flower.

"What did you _do_?" yelled Arthur accusingly.

"I will not justify myself to you, Pendragon," called back the king's son and Arthur had to admire his restraint after being accused so openly. Merlin yelped in pain and Brunor glared at Arthur. "He needs help! Where is Galahad? Get over here, Pendragon!"

The prince hardly knew what to do. He was the heir to the throne, a warrior and a ruler, but he was not a physician. Merlin was covered in sweat and his body kept twitching. The sleeve of his shirt was pulled up on his right arm and there were some cuts and scratches glittering with red blood.

"What can I do?" he mumbled.

"Just hold him while I get Galahad," said Brunor.

He seized Arthur wrists and pulled his hands down on Merlin's shoulders. The warlock kept writhing and struggling. The knot in Arthur's stomach appeared again as he watched the pain on the young face. But it was all a little strange because the wound on his arm did not even look so bad.

"Galahad! Where have you been?" said Brunor all of a sudden.

Arthur glanced momentarily at the door and saw the limping knight rushing in.

"It's not exactly easy for me going up those godforsaken stairs. What happened, Sire?"

Galahad was making his way as best as he could around the chairs and tables and piles of books.

"He was helping me tend to my father," related Lord Brunor while glancing at Merlin. "I noticed his injury and offered to help dress it properly. He's done so much for my father… We came here and he asked me to pour some water on his arm, which I did, and then he just… _collapsed_."

Galahad was standing next to Arthur now. The expression went from worry to shock.

"Where did you get the water from?" he asked, and Arthur could hear the urgency in his voice.

"From my water skin," muttered Brunor. His face had gone white. "I filled it in the lake. Oh no… The lake!"

Galahad was on the move. He had gone straight towards a shelf that was filled with small bottles.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think!" burst out Lord Brunor.

"No, you sure didn't…"

"_What_?" bellowed Arthur. He couldn't bear the look of pain on Merlin's face. "What's going on?"

Galahad was examining the bottles one after the other, but he kept discarding each and every one.

"The water from the lake doesn't agree with Merlin," he said darkly. "It's part of the evil that lies there. It only affects _him_, and it will probably affect _you_ now that I think of it."

Merlin's struggling and twisting had decreased a bit, but the absence of color on his face, the sound of his breathing and the sweat on his brows were all signs that his condition was only worsening.

"We have to do something," said Arthur. He was fighting hard the impulse to shake Merlin into awareness.

"We made a potion in case it happened again," said Galahad. "If I can just find it…"

"It happened before?" asked Arthur.

Brunor was standing next to him now. "Yes, but never quite like this. It's getting worse. I would never wish something like this for anyone."

Arthur felt suddenly extremely bad for having accused Lord Brunor so boldly. He was so used to stories of betrayal and murdered princes that he had jumped to that conclusion too hastily. It was obvious in the way that Brunor was looking at Merlin that he cared for him as much as the other knights.

"Sire, I apologize. I…"

"I would never wish him harm, even if he should become heir to the throne," explained Brunor with conviction. "He helped my wife deliver my first born son. All that I hold dear in this world I owe to him."

"I've got it!" said Galahad out of the blue.

Arthur glanced down at Merlin's face. He looked so pale and weak.

Galahad did not waste a second. He poured a clear liquid into Merlin's mouth and the young warlock immediately began to stir. Suddenly, he took a long breath as though he had just emerged from deep water.

The three men watched over him in silence for a few minutes. Galahad wrapped a white cloth around Merlin's arm and wiped his forehead delicately. At length, the limping knight began to make his way towards the door, but Arthur did not feel like moving. He took a chair and sat down next to the small bed.

"He's going to be fine by morning," said Galahad. "Remember not to drink from the lake, Sire. Camelot needs you safe and sound."

"I must go back to my father," said Brunor. "I will have a room prepared for you for the night. If you need anything, you can ask the servant boy Lucian."

The king's son pressed a friendly hand on the other prince's shoulder, glanced momentarily at Merlin, and then he left.

_Well, Merlin_, thought Arthur with sudden realisation. _I guess it's time for that talk_.


	16. Chapter 16: Lord Merlin Brittanicus

**Chapter 16**

He had been hunched over Merlin's unconscious form for so long now that his hands were sweaty and his elbows actually hurt.

"I'm not going to apologize you know. You could have been honest with me. Not from the start obviously. I might have killed you then. But I didn't know you. That was before you saved my life a few times, and shown loyalty and bravery in the face of death. You still are a stupid servant regardless of everything else; even if I'm not sure it means anything given the fact that you're noble and all that.

Not that I'm not happy about it. We're cousins, you know; distant ones, but still related by blood. It makes sense. I always knew there was something about you. Now I know it's not wisdom. It's a kind of nobility."

I can't say that the whole sorcerer thing doesn't bother me because it does. All this time, I just thought that I was really lucky. Each time an opponent would drop his sword at the last moment or fall off his horse, I imagine that it must have been you doing your magic tricks. But what does that make me? What portion of my triumphs do I actually owe to you? Is there any way to tell? Am I just an average knight? Not that you care about that; you're just sleeping."

He got up, stretched a little, and then started to pace around the chamber.

"You have no idea how hard this is for me, do you? You had to leave so that I could look like an idiot. Everyone is just waiting for me to pass judgment. I know _who_ I'm supposed to be and _what_ I'm supposed to do, but you had to be a sorcerer to make things more complicated. Gaius said that you were born with magic, but that actually doesn't make it easier. Sorcerers are supposed to be black-hearted villains, but that's just everything that you are _not_; and nor is Gaius. What choice do I have then? Can you tell me that?"

From his small bed near the fireplace, Merlin gave a loud snort and turned on his side.

"Of course you're not going to tell me. You're sleeping. Couldn't you at least pretend to care?" said Arthur irritably.

Merlin turned on his back, threw one arm up, his good arm, and began to snore.

"Great!" burst out Arthur. He was not even bothering to keep his voice down anymore. "This is turning out to be our best conversation ever: the one-sided kind."

He had been mumbling incoherently for so many hours now that nothing that came out of his mouth hardly made any sense. He didn't know what time it was except that it was dark. He had given Merlin some water (from the well below the castle, not from the lake) at sundown. Now the young warlock was deeply asleep. More color had returned to his skin, confirming the fact that he would recover from the dark magic that had poisoned him.

"You know I really spilled my gut out so you could at least acknowledge that some of it got through," said the prince.

Merlin's only response was to mumble under his breath something that sounded like "yes more mead please".

Arthur let out a sigh of irritation.

"All right, I'm done," he said. "But don't ask me to repeat it because I won't. You're really hopeless you know."

After that he left in search of his own room. He found the servant boy Lucian lurking in the corridors waiting for him, and it was just as well because he was just about ready to fall asleep on the floor.

The room that was assigned to him was small but comfortable. He slept dreamlessly, waking up only once to check on Merlin, but the young warlock was still sleeping. As he returned to his room, he heard the wolves, but it was only a distant call.

When he woke up in the daylight, he soon realized that he had overslept. He found Merlin's chambers deserted, which set him on edge, only to find that a training of some sort had started just outside of the keep, beyond the caved in wall. It was the servant boy Lucian who showed him the scene through one of the small windows. As Arthur's eyes scanned through the group of knights, he spotted Gwaine, Lancelot and Merlin standing together and speaking eagerly.

A good part of the day had already gone by and as he stepped into the Hall he was handed a plate with his lunch rather than his breakfast.

Lord Brunor was giving some orders in the Great Hall and a woman carrying an infant in her arms was following him. As he watched them from a distance, Arthur felt a sudden urge to go back to Camelot and to Guinevere.

"Arthur!" said Brunor happily. "Come and meet little William."

The baby boy was beautiful, but Arthur was more interested by the sound of clashing swords outside of the walls.

"Do you want to see the game?" asked Brunor cheerily.

The weather outside was very enjoyable. In fact, _Aria's Cradle_ was a lovely place during the day when it wasn't haunted by creatures of evil. Even the Black Lake wasn't ominous or imposing. It was peacefully lying at the bottom of the valley like a giant well.

The keep's caved in wall wasn't the only ruin, Arthur noticed. The knights were training on a patch of grass between what was left of a few walls of stones. It was now only high enough for Merlin to sit on. Arthur could see him now, dangling his feet like a child and turning his sword so that the blade would reflect the light of the sun. All traces of the previous night's illness seemed to have vanished except for the white cloth around his hand and wrist.

Presently, the knights were standing in circle and cheering a friendly fight between Lancelot and a knight whose name Arthur did not know.

"Don't you want to get closer?" asked Brunor.

"What's the game?" asked Arthur. He had found a nice spot in the shade next to a tall tree and he wasn't sure that he wanted to face the crowd just yet.

"They're playing 'Last One Standing'. It's sort of self-explanatory."

Lancelot had thrown his opponent on his back, but the defeated knight merely rolled out of the way, got back on his feet and bowed low to Arthur's younger knight. Lancelot then pointed at another knight. It was a stout fellow with big arms. The fight began again and Arthur was glad to see that Lancelot had the advantage once more.

As they were fighting, Arthur watched Merlin from the corner of his eye. He couldn't quite believe how well he looked and how much he was enjoying himself. It was such a contrast. And then it dawned on him that Merlin could put off quite a pretense if he needed too. So perhaps he was not doing so well after all.

He was brought out of his reverie when Lord Brunor stepped in to accept the challenge that Lancelot was setting him.

The fight was a fair one. Brunor was older but very skilled. Lancelot was swift and agile on his feet. The fought brilliantly for a long while until Brunor knocked the sword off Lancelot's hand. The knight yielded and Brunor picked Gwaine for his next opponent.

Arthur recognized Gwaine's style right away. He was fierce and quick. Unfortunately, Lord Brunor did not last very long, which caused a good laugh among all of the valley's knights.

Having won, Gwaine pointed his sword at the giant Gregory.

"A-ha!" yelled the knight happily. "Bad choice for you."

"We'll see," replied Gwaine between clenched teeth.

Gregory was at least a head taller than Gwaine, and he had many more muscles in his body. But Gwaine was thoroughly unimpressed. Arthur recognized his own arrogance in Gwaine's demeanor. He was a man for whom fighting was a way to prove his worth; which was precisely why the look on Gwaine's face when he fell face forward in the grass and lost his sword was priceless.

"A-ha!" shouted Gregory. "I defeat Camelot! I choose Prince Arthur!"

Arthur felt all eyes turned to him at once. He was a guest so he didn't really have a choice. As he stepped into the ring of cheering knights, Lancelot handed him his sword and whispered, "He's not really that impressive" with a playful grin. Clearly, the fun of the game was contagious.

"My arm still hurts you know," said Arthur as he was circling around Gregory to assess his weak points.

"I pull it out of its socket if you want, little prince," sneered the giant.

But Arthur had already seen what he was looking for. Gregory was so big and tall that his ankles and feet looked tiny. It was barely noticeable, but he was a little unsteady on the grass.

Arthur gave the first blow and aimed all of the following ones at the lower part of Gregory's body. Just by his footwork, he knew that he was throwing the tall knight off balance.

"I feel I have to offer you a chance to withdraw now," said Arthur with a cunning grin.

The other knights were laughing.

"I no think so," replied Gregory.

The next blows were decisive. Arthur moved quickly and always with the aim of throwing Gregory off balance. When he saw an opening, he pushed with his whole body and the giant knight fell on his back, defeated.

The laughing stopped instantly, but then Arthur presented his hand to Gregory and the cheering was renewed even louder.

"Your pick now," said Gregory, bowing to the prince.

"Merlin!" said the prince at once. He had been waiting for that opportunity. "Let's see how well you've trained."

"Bad choice," uttered Gregory, and then he limped back into the circle of knights.

"That's a nice little sword," said Arthur jokingly.

Merlin swung it around once and Arthur immediately that the weapon was doing wonders for him. It was small and light and therefore his movements were swift.

"I feel I have to offer you a chance to withdraw," repeated Merlin wittingly.

"I _never_ withdraw," replied Arthur.

He gave the first blow and was rather impressed at how well Merlin was able to handle the fight. They exchanged a few more blows before Merlin spun on the spot and knocked the prince on his back. Arthur took a few steps back.

"Don't hold back," sneered Arthur.

Merlin was swinging the blade in front of his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic," he snorted. "It's only a game, isn't it?"

They fought again and the cheering around them became low murmurs. However, Merlin was beginning to show signs of weariness. He winced when Arthur inadvertently brushed his wounded arm.

"Sorry!" he couldn't help saying.

He regretted it at once. Merlin swung his sword at him in a wide arch which gave him more strength. Arthur had to take a few steps back, but he regained his advantage almost instantly with the next blow.

"You do know I've been trained to do this since birth," he said without much thinking.

The words had a familiar sound to his ears, and he knew why the moment Merlin replied.

"And how long have you trained to be a _prat_, my Lord?"

It was from the first day of their encounter, of course. Arthur had wanted to throw him in the dungeons for saying that. He had taught him a lesson in the market instead.

"I – am – not – a – _prat_," he said and gave a blow with every word.

Suddenly, the sword flew from Merlin's hand. It would have landed a few paces away if Merlin had not caught it with magic. He just stood there with his arm stretched, and the sword stopped in midair.

And then Arthur began to sink into the ground. Actually, it was as though he was no longer standing on solid ground but on the bottom of a swamp.

"That's – not – fair!" shouted the prince.

"Life's not fair," said Merlin with a grin. "I didn't ask to have magic. You didn't ask to be a _prat_."

"That makes us even, then," said Arthur. He was now down to his knees in mud.

"Oh no," laughed Merlin. "To make us even, you need to get at least up to _here_." He gestured to his neck.

"That's very _funny_," said the prince. He had now dropped his sword to try and regain his balance.

Merlin took his own gold and silver sword. He brought it so close to Arthur's face that the prince could see the markings on the blade.

"Do you yield?" said Merlin sternly.

Arthur considered his situation. He was standing on a pool of mud, balancing unsteadily with his hands, while everyone else was on solid ground. He had no way out.

Against all odds, the best warrior in the land yelled, "You win," to a boy who had been his servant.

Immediately, the something solid below his feet began to vibrate and push him up. When his feet were on ground level, long grass grew rapidly to cover the hole. The other knights were cheering and clapping. The giant Gregory was laughing on top of his lungs.

"A-ha! Merlin no joking. Now you see, little prince. A-ha!"

But Arthur could only see that Merlin was panting.

"I told you I could take you," he said between two breaths.

Arthur's reply died in his throat as he saw the servant boy Lucian arrive at a run. His face was not amused at all.

"Merlin! Lord Brunor! I think the king is dying!" said the boy.

And then, just like that, Merlin was gone. _Again_.


	17. Chapter 17: The Prince's Choice

**Author's note:**

**Arthur is planning something stupid in this chapter. **

**I'm beginning to miss Merlin so I can tell you right now that he **_**will return**_** in the next chapter as I switch back to using his point of view. I'll be working on that this week.**

**Don't hesitate to send your reviews!**

**Thanks**

**MERLIN: DAWN OF THE DRAGONLORD **

**Chapter 17**

In the end of the afternoon, Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot were walking steadily towards the inn where they had left their horses. There was a very enjoyable breeze which made the walk uphill less of an effort.

"How long do you think the king will last?" Lancelot said in an attempt to stimulate the conversation. The prince had been strangely quiet ever since the news that the king's illness had gone from bad to worse.

"Merlin said that he may not last the night," replied Gwaine, "which is a good thing, I hear. It will put an end to his long suffering. Not to mention the fact that Lord Brunor is ready to rule."

"You don't think that the king will name Merlin?" asked Lancelot innocently.

Arthur couldn't help snorting. "Merlin is many things, as it turns out: a sorcerer, a Dragonlord, a physician, an annoying servant. But he's not a knight and certainly not a king."

"You've got to admit that he makes one exceptional noble," replied Gwaine obstinately.

"Yes, but he's too naïve and that will only get him killed," said Arthur sternly.

"What does that make you, I wonder?"

"_Gwaine_!" let out Lancelot indignantly.

"No, he's right," uttered Arthur under his breath.

The other two fell silent. Arthur was glad for his knight's respect of his need to think. He wasn't sure of what he was doing or how he was going to do it. It was strange for him to be thinking of magic and curses when such things were forbidden in Camelot. His father would be furious. His friendship to a sorcerer alone was enough to be called treason. Would Uther order the death of his own son if he ever found out about Merlin? Arthur was trying hard not to think about it. It was the kind of action that could bring about the end of Camelot. He wasn't going to be the cause of that; then again, his father might not leave him a choice.

Either way, at dawn, he was going to walk down a dangerous path.

"Hurry up! We have to get back before dark," he called to the others while picking up the pace.

"Forget it!" yelled Gwaine in reply. "I'm not going back until I have had a pint."

The prince did not even object to the idea. His main concern was to appear to be doing something else than what he actually had in mind to do.

"CURSE YOU!"

He had been so absorbed by his own thoughts that he had barely spotted the old man lurking behind the trees before the yell broke the silence.

"_Curse you_ Pendragon!" bellowed the old man again.

His hair was white, his clothes worn, his back bent and his eyes wild with rage. He was not a man to be feared by Arthur's standards, but still Gwaine and Lancelot drew out their swords as a precaution, mostly because the old man looked out of his mind.

"Let him speak!" said the prince.

The old man took a step forward.

"The Dragonlords have betrayed the deep magic," he said, his voice shaking. "They are the reason why the dragons are no more and I tremble for the race of men."

"They were the ones who were betrayed…" Arthur began to say.

"Yes! _Men_ betrayed by _lesser_ men. The Dragonlords were supposed to be something _more_. Now they are the reasons why the dragons are gone forever and why the valley is cursed. The evil that lives in the Black Lake will swallow us all. Not even Lord Balinor's _brat_ can change…"

He did not finish his sentence. At the word _brat_, Arthur had pulled out his sword without thinking and without any effort. With one hand he pushed the old man hard against the tree; with the other he aimed the tip of his blade at the man's throat.

"Very poor choice of words," uttered Gwaine with a grin.

"Peace, Sire!" cried out Lancelot, pressing a hand on Arthur's forearm.

He couldn't help but glare at the old man. Galahad had told him that the villagers were afraid of Merlin, but to hold him responsible for the curse was taking it a grade too far.

"Arthur, he's just a useless old man," said Lancelot softly.

It took the prince a few more seconds before releasing the old fool. As he was putting his sword back I its sheath, the old man cried out, "That sorcerer of the old religion will be our doom. The valley does not want him. Why don't you bring him back with you?"

And then the old man took off at a run and disappeared behind the trees.

After that encounter, Arthur did not utter and word and resumed his course towards the inn. The old man's hatred of magic seemed reminiscent of the aura of fear and loathing that was growing in Camelot and especially in the king's court ever since Morgana's betrayal. But what could he do to change the minds of so many people? Even with Merlin at his side, he was still just a man. The Pendragons had lost the sacred gift of the Dragonlords. How else was he going to prove that magic _wasn't_ altogether evil? How could he possibly make others see when he, the king's son, had just begun to accept it? He couldn't very well ask Merlin to conjure pretty butterflies in the king's Hall just to prove his point now could he? _No_, he thought wearily, _he would be executed on the spot, and I cannot accept that. I will not stand by and watch Merlin die. Not now, and not _ever_. I would rather die._

He noticed that they had arrived at the inn only when he almost tripped on one of the white stones that were placed in circle around the main house.

Gwaine led the way inside and found a comfortable table. It was almost sundown and there were only a few customers at the inn. They ordered some mead and inquired about their horses. At length, Gwaine could no longer keep his comments to himself. 

"What about that old man, huh? I reckon he was barking mad. As if _Merlin_ could be evil or even dangerous. I always thought that it would be a good thing to have a sorcerer around. I hate the way they're all looking at him and whispering behind his back, but it would probably be the same in Camelot if everyone knew, or _worse_. If it was me and I had magic, I'd chase them all out with lightening. But Merlin would never do that, and that's why he's _Merlin_. We should be glad he's the one with magic. He's putting his life in danger every night for these people and still they would cast him out if it wasn't for Galahad and the other knights. I hate this place. I think we should go home. Even the mead stinks."

Gwaine wasn't even bothering to keep his voice down. Arthur saw several of the villagers at the inn glare at them.

"When are we going home, by the way?" continued Gwaine with the same nonchalance. "Do you reckon everyone still thinks you're with Lady Vivian?"

Arthur thought that the comment did not even merit an answer. He was watching the sun go down through the window. It was just over the hills now. Soon it would be dark and time to do what he was meant to. At last, he was going to repay Merlin for everything that he had done for Camelot and for him.

"You haven't spoken to him yet."

Arthur leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms on his chest. Lancelot was looking at him with piercing eyes and the prince felt as though he was being scolded.

"Yes, I have!"

"The night when he almost died and was completely out of it with fever doesn't count."

"I _have_ spoken to him. We fought and I said… things."

Gwaine was shaking his head in disapproval; and so was Lancelot.

"The fighting doesn't count either," said the younger knight.

"All right!" said Arthur, throwing his arms up. "I said… _Merlin_. That pretty much covers it."

He knew that the two knights were right of course. There just had not been that many opportunities. Merlin always seemed so busy. Not that it should bother him of course; he was Prince Arthur after all. But there was still the matter of what he was going to say. He had already made up his mind that he wasn't going to apologize…

"Well, we can't wait around forever waiting for you to make amends," said Gwaine pointedly.

"Who says that I need to make amends? I haven't done anything wrong," snapped back Arthur, annoyed that they were back on that topic.

Lancelot and Gwaine exchanged a meaningful glance.

"You called him a traitor," said Gwaine. "You said you didn't need him, that you were going to _kill_ him…"

"What if I did? You forget that he lied to me for years and right under my nose!" cried out Arthur.

"If you had said those things to me I would have run you through," pointed out Gwaine. "And make no mistake on the fact that Merlin _can_ take you."

Arthur was rubbing his temples now. For eight months, he had had this argument with himself or with others. Now that it came down to it, he still could not find the right words to say. Why couldn't it be as easy as punching him on the shoulder? That had worked before, had it not?

"But what about this valley?" murmured Lancelot. "We can't just leave all those people to their suffering. I've seen the despair in their eyes. They are scared, and not only of Merlin. They will not survive long like this."

Gwaine threw his fist down on the table which made everyone in the inn jump. "What about me? I'm scared! Forget the heart to heart talk! How about we just grab Merlin and leave? It would be for his own good. You both can see how pale and tired he looks. There's something evil about that lake and it's affecting him somehow."

Lancelot looked insulted. "We can't just snatch him against his will, Gwaine!"

"You weren't there! You haven't seen that evil up close. It was a nightmare!" snapped back the knight. "It's not a coincidence that a few drops of water from that lake made him sick. But you spoke to Galahad so you know that the water touches _everything_ in the valley: the trees and the plants, the cattle, the food, even that blasted mead. How long do you think Merlin will last if he can't touch any of that? This place is like poison. Let's just get him and go!"

"We'll do nothing of the sort," said Arthur commandingly.

Lancelot leaned in closer conspiringly. "Am I correct to assume that we're going to fight whatever evil is in that lake by ourselves, Sire?"

Arthur couldn't help but grin. He should have known that Lancelot would see right through him.

"What makes you say that?"

"Firstly, you make us climb all the way up here near sundown when you know that there is a curfew. Secondly, you tell Galahad that we are going to spend the night at the inn. And thirdly, you bring to this so-called pleasurable walk your chain mail and _two_ swords."

"Two?" asked Gwaine out of the blue.

As a reply, Arthur brought out the long bag that he had been carrying on his back. He placed it on the table and unfolded the cloth to reveal Merlin's short silver and gold blade. As he held the weapon in his hands, Arthur took a second to appreciate the craftsmanship behind it. It was exceptionally light, which was enough to explain why Merlin seemed so skilled. It suited him in terms of weight and length, it made him faster than an average fighter, and he could use magic to make his blows stronger. There were also inscriptions in fine gold on each side of the blade. Galahad had translated them as "Day becomes Night" on one side and "Night becomes Day" on the other.

"That's Merlin's sword," whispered Lancelot, slightly taken aback. "How did you get it?"

"He asked Galahad to take it to his chambers," replied Arthur matter-of-factly. "Apparently, the king doesn't like the sight of it. So I told Galahad that I would take it on account of his bad leg."

"Are you mad?" Gwaine burst out. "We don't have magic. We don't have an army. We don't have _anything_."

Arthur tried to recall the way of thinking that had led him to take the sword.

"This is the weapon that was placed on the wall and that none could remove. Now if it was me and I had placed a curse on my kingdom, my family and all that I hold dear, I would have left a key behind, a way to unlock the curse."

"And you think that the sword may be it?" said Lancelot.

They both looked at Gwaine for his input but he was merely shrugging.

"I never understood much about magic," he uttered uneasily.

"But did you see Melrin use the sword against those flying creatures?" asked Arthur.

Gwaine allowed himself a few moments to think back. It seemed as though a shadow was passing in front of his closed eyes.

"No, he only used magic," he said finally. "But have you thought that if Merlin was the one who removed the sword, he should be the one…"

"No! I will not accept that! I will not let him risk his life again. Not for me!"

The prince had spoken so forcefully and with such fervor that the two knights did not dare argue.

"I suppose that it could work," said Lancelot after a while. He was glancing intensely at Merlin's sword. "Why not? The Pendragons used to be Dragonlords, after all."

"Just don't tell my father," replied Arthur with a grin.

"Well," said Gwaine, raising from his seat and throwing a few gold pieces on the table. "That was without doubt the worse mead I have ever had. I'm just really disappointed that it's going to be the last. I'm not looking forward to seeing these daemons again either, but I sure as Hell am not staying in this dreadful inn a moment longer. Shall we?"

Arthur kept Merlin's sword in his right hand as they walked out of the inn. He did not care that the villagers were whispering behind their back. His mind was set. He was going to break this curse tonight, or he would not be returning home. He owed a debt of honor to Merlin for saving his life countless times, and this was his way of repaying him. Not apology. No heart to heart talk. His actions, he hoped, would speak for themselves.

He did not see, at the other end of the road, on the highest tower, Merlin looking out in the direction of the inn and hoping that Arthur was in fact _not_ doing anything stupid.


	18. Chapter 18: Something Stupid

**Chapter 19**

The Eastern Tower had seen many battles. The stone steps to reach the top were mostly worn out and the walls were blackened by fire. One could easily tell that the main part of the keep had once been beautiful. Now the tower was little more than a ruin. The statues and gargoyles were absent from the many windows gazing out at the valley; few pieces of them remained but only limbs, never their whole bodies. A huge chunk of rock was missing from the highest rampart like a knocked down tooth and it gave the tower an ominous look, like the carcass of some monster, forgotten by time.

Lately, however, a figure could be seen regularly standing at the top of the tower or sitting casually on the rampart, with eyes fixed on the horizon, searching for something that normal men could not see.

"I do hate it when you make me climb all the way up here," said Galahad wearily as he reached the top of the stairs.

Merlin Brittanicus had heard the knight's unsteady steps but he had not bothered to stand up and bow to the nobleman. Sir Galahad would not have tolerated it. He had been the first knight of _Aria's Cradle_ to recognize him as an equal.

"I'm interrupting some deep thought, aren't I?" asked the knight from behind him. "Are you trying to call the Great Dragon again?"

The young warlock shook his head. "I thought that he may have followed Arthur here. I told him to go back to Camelot and stand guard. It seemed logical that he would return now."

He heard the _clunk clunk_ of Galahad's walking stick as the knight advanced to stand next to him.

"One cannot guess the thinking of dragons," he said solemnly.

Merlin glanced momentarily at the knight. "That's kind of part of the job description, you know – _Dragonlord_. There's a bit about _dragons_," he replied pointedly.

He turned around to face Galahad, feeling as though he had had this conversation before, but otherwise glad for the company.

"How do you do it?" asked Galahad.

"Well, I don't really think. I just talk and sometimes stuff comes out that's a bit funny and…"

"I mean _calling the dragon_!" burst out Galahad, suppressing a laugh.

"Oh… _that_. I just sort of _reach out_ with my mind and he's supposed to be there."

That part made Merlin uneasy. He had tried day after day to get in touch with the dragon just like he had in the cave. Yet the only image that he got was a black blur as though Kilgarrah was sleeping or hiding, if that was possible. It had been the same ever since his arrival at _Aria's Cradle. _

"I wish there was a book about the art of the Dragonlords that I could tell you to read. Unfortunately, the tradition of passing down knowledge from father to son can lead to these kinds of very poor results."

Merlin couldn't help but grin. Galahad had a lot in common with Gaius; mainly, his love for logic, science and mostly books, which Merlin found extremely weird for a knight.

"What would be your diagnosis, then?" asked Merlin smartly.

"I'm not sure I have a diagnosis, but I certainly _know_ the cause. Get out of this godforsaken valley – and then try to call him again," replied Galahad.

"That's not going to happen unless I manage to free the valley of that curse," snorted the young warlock.

"My point exactly," uttered Galahad.

He couldn't help but smirk at the older knight. Despite the long hair, the scars, the wild looks and rough-and-tough attitude, Galahad's approach towards Merlin was extremely protective. At first, it had been almost like having a bodyguard. The role had been Lord Brunor's idea and explicit wish. As the last Dragonlord, Merlin's status in the royal household was uncertain. Balinor, Merlin's father, was viewed by some as a traitor and by others as the rightful heir to the throne. The fact that Merlin had magic was also part of the reason why the knights and villagers had been less than welcoming. The art of the Dragonlords was rooted in the Old Religion and so was magic, but apparently one could not possess both without being regarded as uncanny or dangerous. The knights had eventually warmed up to him after he had saved all of their lives a few times in a row, but still there remained a certain hesitation when it came to the topic of magic, and the villagers were forever fearful, refusing even the help he could give them with his physician training.

For Galahad, however, none of that seemed to matter. The bond between them was deeper than duty or allegiance. With him, magic could be discussed openly, which was something new to Merlin.

"What's the plan then?" asked the knight casually. "We wait until the old goat is dead. And then what?"

"He's the _King_, Galahad, not an _old goat_!" let out Merlin, slightly amused.

"Old age is not an excuse to treat everyone like dirt, especially your own flesh and blood," snorted Galahad.

"He's the only one around here who has actually _known_ my father so I had to try."

He was remembering a particularly painful conversation during which the old king had first thought he was talking to Balinor, which had been really weird, and then he had screamed at Merlin for having brought the curse on the valley. Of course, the confusion was mainly due to heart attack that had caused damage to the brain and paralyzed the old man's body on the left side from head to toe. Luckily – if there was indeed such a thing – it had happened before Merlin had arrived therefore he couldn't be blamed for the illness. But all hopes of finding out more about his father had vanished the moment he had realized that the old ruler could no longer think straight.

And now it looked as though the king of _Aria's Cradle_ wasn't going to last the night.

"I told you about the five other Dragonlord Houses," said Galahad, his voice full of meaning. "We know that the Pendragons no longer have the gift, but there are still the Houses of Bagatelle, LeNoir and Veronus. You could go and look for them. You don't have to stay _here_."

Merlin found nothing to reply and he turned towards the horizon again, leaning on the wall and thinking. He could still not quite believe that the words _Pendragon_ and _Dragonlords_ actually belonged together. The idea of finding out more about the Dragonlord Houses had crossed his mind. However, that path would take him further away from what he was supposed to be doing, which was helping Arthur unite the land of Albion_. Whatever that means_, thought Merlin wearily.

"I don't understand why you keep wanting me to leave," said Merlin wearily. "My father grew up here. Doesn't it mean that I belong here too?"

Galahad leaned against the wall to stare at Merlin but he accidentally stepped on his bad leg and let out a soft moan.

"Are you all right?" asked Merlin with deep concern.

He could tell that the wound on his leg was bothering Galahad more and more. It had happened on the night that Merlin had pulled him out of the water. Apparently, the knight had had in mind to take on the dark creatures around the lake all by himself. He had failed quite miserably of course. Merlin had only arrived in time to see him sink under the dark water. He had walked into the lake himself and snatched Galahad's limp body from the claws of some dark shadowy monster. After that, with the other knights' help, they had brought Galahad back to the castle where Merlin had tried to heal him. Most of the damage had been repaired except for a nasty deep gash on his leg. No matter how much he tried, there was no getting rid of that evil.

On the bright side, Galahad's escape had successfully proven for the first time in years that the evil within the lake could be challenged and possibly even defeated. It had given a lot of people hope, which was not a small accomplishment for Merlin's first day on the job as the last Dragonlord.

"Don't look at me like that," said Galahad. "You did everything that you could. Keep your strength. You're going to need it, especially with _that_ prince."

"You still haven't told me why you want me to leave," repeated Merlin stubbornly.

He was also trying to avoid a certain topic at all cost.

"I don't know many nobles who would take on such a journey for a servant," commented Galahad, completely disregarding Merlin's question.

"But I'm not really a servant anymore," murmured Merlin. "I'm a sorcerer and a traitor. He probably thinks that I'm going to turn into some dark wizard and try to destroy Camelot. That would give him an excuse to burn me at the stake."

Despite his best attempt to sound bitter, he knew that Galahad was seeing right through him.

"So I see that you haven't really spoken to him," said the knight.

"Actually, I'm still just trying to get over the fact that he's _here_."

"You can get over that fact _tonight_," said Galahad pointedly. "He's at the inn. You should go and talk to him."

Merlin shook his head. "No, I should stay here – the king…"

"There's nothing more you can do for him," said Galahad.

It was late in the evening now. The evil surrounding the Black Lake was starting to stir. Merlin could feel it creeping under his skin. It was like that every night. He could not sleep, nor eat, nor find peace of mind from the moment the sun went down.

"Why did he go at the inn?" he said absent-mindedly, thinking of Arthur.

Galahad merely shrugged. "Your friend Gwaine needed a drink I suppose. They didn't seem to think much of your curfew."

"The curfew is there for a reason," said Merlin bluntly.

He still didn't know what he was supposed to tell Arthur, but spending a good time with Gwaine and Lancelot did not seem like a bad idea. All of the gloom and darkness were making him wish for brighter things. He could always pretend to be inquiring about Gaius…

"I should probably just go to make sure Arthur doesn't do anything _stupid_," he said after a while.

Galahad's eyes suddenly became wide as though he had just realized something.

"Could taking your sword have anything to do with _doing something stupid_?"

Merlin was fully alerted now.

"He took my sword?" he asked.

"He said he was going to put it away," retorted Galahad defensively, "but I checked and it isn't there so he must have taken it somewhere… Wait! _Merlin_! Where are you going?"

But the young warlock did not slow his descend. He was going down the stairs two by two. He pushed open every door that he met with a wave of magic. He even used the help of magic to mount his horse.

_Stupid Arthur_, he kept thinking. It was such an _Arthur_ thing to do: courageous, hopeless and completely stupid. What was Arthur thinking, taking his sword and going out there to face the creatures of evil on his own? Surely, he didn't think that he could single-handedly break the curse?

Suddenly, Merlin pulled the reins and turned his horse around. He didn't need to go to the inn. That was not Arthur's plan at all. He was going to the Black Lake. Could he really be that stupid?

_Yep, _thought Merlin_. He is._


	19. Chapter 19: The Black Lake

**Chapter 19**

He had not reached the lake yet when he heard barking and howling. The horrible noise made the hair at the back of his neck stand and his horse kick back on its hid legs.

"Come on! They're close to the lake. We have to make it!" he yelled to his horse.

But the animal was stubbornly pounding its feet.

"Fine! Have it your way!"

As soon as he set foot on the ground, the horse took off at a run. Merlin immediately felt hugely unprotected. In his haste to leave the keep, he had picked up an old sword that was lying uselessly against the wall. It was a long blade that had lost its shine with a black hilt unfamiliar in his hand and too heavy.

"I guess you'll have to do," he whispered as he entered the black forest.

It was dark now but finding his way towards the Black Lake was not that difficult. He just had to follow the barking wolves and the thread of evil. He could feel it now, creeping under his skin, invading his mind like a poison.

It had taken Galahad and him a few months to realise the full impact of the curse, what it had done to the lake, and what it was doing to Merlin. The knights and villagers were afraid of that lake; they had been for twenty years because of the creatures of darkness that loomed there. They had sensed perhaps on some level what Merlin had experienced first hand. That water was like a poison to him. At first, he had thought that he was being the prey to some random sickness. The fever had appeared after a night of hunting dark creatures. It had been Galahad who had made the connection to the lake. He had tested his theory by letting out a few drops fall on Merlin's skin. The young warlock had immediately felt weak, as though his energy was being sucked out of him. Since then, he had tried to stay away from the lake. He _feared_ it. Most of all, he feared being weak and powerless. But such a fear was nothing compared to the dread of loosing Arthur.

He knew that he was close now, even in the darkness. The barking of the wolves was louder and the evil of the lake was stronger, almost like a presence.

"Get back! Arthur! _Get back_!" screamed a familiar voice.

Merlin immediately recognised Lancelot. Without further thought, he sprang forward until the trees opened up in front of him and the ground under his feet became pebbles and sand.

The three wolves caught his attention first. They were huge, ferocious, with eyes shining red and fur as black as the night. The beasts were advancing menacingly on two other figures: Gwaine and Lancelot. The biggest one of the wolves was about to prance. Merlin could see the creature leaning back on its hid legs now.

There was not a moment to waste.

"_Forbaern_!" cried the young warlock.

A streak of fire slid across the ground like a snake and Merlin aimed it straight at the wolves. The first creature yelped as its body caught fire. When Merlin saw that the other two wolves were unharmed, he willed the fire around them in a closed circle. He waited until Gwaine and Lancelot were out of the way and then, with a quick movement of his hand, the flames burst higher, forming a cage. The mad barking soon turned into panicked wails. The third wolf was lying dead on the sandy beach.

Gwaine bowed at him lightly as a kind of quiet _thanks_, but Lancelot was looking past him at a scene that Merlin had not seen.

"Arthur!" yelled the young knight.

Merlin wheeled around to see the prince struggling with another wolf with his bare hands. The creature was trying to snap its attacker but Arthur was maintaining its mouth shut in a tight grip.

"_Merlin_!" bellowed the prince. "You're a _sorcerer_! Do something!"

But the memory of how his spell had hit both Arthur and Morgana a few months ago was too vivid in his mind. He didn't want to take that risk. Instead, he sprang forward, aiming his sword at the beast's right eye. He thrust his sword through it, but the wolf jerked its head upwards at the last moment and it broke the blade. The creature howled in pain and recoiled.

"What are you doing, _Merlin_? You're supposed to kill it!" said the prince irritably.

"I might have hit you!" replied Merlin on top of the howling wolf.

"Hit me with _what_?" snapped back Arthur, glaring at him and at the broken blade.

Merlin threw the useless weapon to the ground. "With _this_! _Astrice_!"

He felt the wave of magic like a lightening bolt going from his outstretched hand towards the beast. The evil creature gave a final yelp and fell to the ground, dead.

"Not bad Merlin," yelled a familiar voice.

But Merlin could not hold back his scream. "_Gwaine_! Watch out!"

He felt the presence of the flying daemon before he even saw it. Gwaine and Lancelot were running towards him and Arthur and the enormous winged creature came swooping down between them, catching the knights unawares.

Merlin took a step in front of Arthur, purely on instinct, and then he cried out "_Astrice_!"

The giant bat-like daemon twisted and writhed as the spell hit it, and then it shot upwards with a deafening screech.

"Don't you know any _other_ spell?" cried out Arthur.

Merlin immediately felt like jumping at the prince's throat.

"Let's see _you_ try it!" he yelled.

"You two can have an argument later," cut in Lancelot. "We're not out of the woods yet."

As he spoke, they heard more screeching above their heads. Merlin couldn't help glaring at Arthur. The fact that he had just noticed his silver and gold sword in Arthur's hand did nothing to improve his mood.

"What did you come out here for?" he asked forcefully.

"To break the curse!" retorted Arthur, raising his voice as well.

"With my grandfather's sword? Are you _mad_?"

"It's a _Dragonlord's_ blade," replied Arthur pointedly. "What if the words on the wall beside it were some kind of spell?"

Merlin could not contain his look of shock. "_You_ are going to cast a spell."

"I already tried!" cried out Arthur, outraged. More screeching high above seemed to echo the prince's bellowing voice.

"Really?" snapped back Merlin smartly, "How did it work out? I don't see any real improvement."

Arthur's offended expression turned into a sneer. "I don't have your apparent years of practice, don't I?"

"Shouldn't we just get out of here?" said Gwaine. His eyes were fixed on the three creatures circling above them.

"No!" commanded the prince. "Let's get this over with!"

The two knights took position on each side of Arthur. They were standing in the middle of the sanded beach with the glow of the fire behind them as only light.

"Got any ideas?" said Gwaine, watching the creatures coming closer.

"Why don't you ask _Merlin_?" Arthur sneered.

"_Me_? Aren't _you_ the one with the plan?"

"Well, YOU'RE the sorcerer!"

"They're coming!" shouted Lancelot.

Merlin had to dive out of the way as two of the creatures aimed for Arthur and him. Immediately, Gwaine and Lancelot took a step forward, protecting the prince and manservant.

For a moment, he lost sight of Arthur. In fact, he lost sight of everything. All that he could see was huge black wings flapping in front of his face, cutting his skin with razor-sharp edges, and throwing clouds of sand into his eyes. And then he saw Lancelot fall heavily besides him, pushed from behind by the beast, and his sword knocked out of his hand...

Merlin did not want to waste the precious opportunity. He cried out "_Fleoge_!" and sent the sword flying towards the creature that was on top of him. He watched in stupefaction as the sword ripped through the bat-like wing only to end up planted on a nearby tree trunk. The creature lifted in the air with a shriek and the others followed it. _It's not over yet_, thought the warlock.

To make matters more humiliating, Arthur was glaring from him to the sword in the tree, and at the same moment the circle of fire that was keeping the wolves at bay died out and Merlin saw the only remaining wolf still living spring to its feet and growl in their direction.

Arthur's mortified look was not helping him concentrate.

"You have got to be the _worst_ sorcerer _ever_," cried out the prince.

"I don't see _you_ being all helpful," snapped back Merlin.

He was cut off as all three flying creatures soared low over Arthur and began their attack again. Gwaine and Lancelot were quick to get by the prince's side (Lancelot did not even have a sword), but the creatures were angry and fast. One of the daemons was aiming for Arthur's head with its long fangs. They were like birds of prey and they were going for the kill.

"Sword!" yelled Lancelot.

He did not even wait for the prince to throw him the weapon; he swooped in, took the sword from Arthur's hand and sliced the creature that was trying to snap Arthur's head. The monsters fell on the sand but it wasn't bleeding; there was a black smoke coming out of its wounded belly.

"Don't let it touch you!" screamed Merlin. He could feel the evil of that smoke even from a distance.

With a quick movement of his hand, he pushed and two knights and the prince out of the way. All three fell on their backs. It was the perfect opportunity for the two flying creatures to swoop in. The only remaining wolf seemed to think the same and it sprung forward towards Arthur and the others.

"_Astrice_! _Forbaern!_" said the warlock.

The first of the two daemons recoiled wailing in pain and Merlin lost sight of the second one as it soared higher. The wolf caught fire as it ran and it collapsed on the sand still far from its target.

However, something else had caught Merlin's attention. Underneath the surface of the Black Lake, evil was stirring. The smoke escaping the carcass of the dead wolf was floating steadily on top of the water. A cold shiver shook Merlin's body.

"Get away from the water!" he yelled to Arthur, Gwaine and Lancelot.

The only reply that he got was a panicked "_Merlin_!" as he felt the daemon's claws grasp his left arm. He was immediately lifted into the air toward the center of the lake. He tried kicking and scratching the claws with his free hand, but the creature had a powerful grip. The only reason why it wasn't tearing through his skin and flesh was because he was still wearing his chain mail from the afternoon's training.

_You're not going to get me_, he kept thinking defiantly.

But he could feel his strength leaving him. His magic was powerless against the creature of darkness. The lake under his feet was like a dark abyss ready to swallow him whole.

And then, without warning, he fell into the cold and black water.


	20. Chapter 20: The Shadow

**Author's note:**

**Thanks for the reviews everyone. They are really the stuff that keeps me going.**

**Congratulations to those who kept up with the story. I know it's getting long. Don't worry; I do plan to end it soon, but I want to make it right. **

**Enjoy this new chapter.**

**Chapter 20**

The water hit him like knifes. He immediately felt the weight of his chain mail dragging him down. It was utterly dark. He couldn't even tell up from down.

Some of it wasn't bad. He was seeing the faces of the people he loved.

_His mother. Gaius. Ar__thur. Freya. Gwen. Lancelot. Gwaine. Kilgarrah. Morgana with her dark hair flowing around her face, all traces of that horrible evil smirk gone. Arthur laughing at him and nudging him on the shoulder. Gaius giving him the book of magic. Arthur inviting him to sit beside him at the Round Table. Freya's smile and her fragile hands reaching out to find his… _

Wait. _Freya_? Was he dreaming that?

Suddenly, he was pulled upwards. Someone was holding him up, keeping his face above the water so that he could breathe, but he kept falling over, splashing and spluttering helplessly. He felt so weak, exhausted, and cold. He wanted nothing more than to rest his head a little to make the throbbing stop.

"Merlin!" cried out a panicked voice. "Come on! I need you to come around _now_!"

Arthur's voice rang like a bell in his head. He felt so heavy with the chain mail on. How could Arthur possibly be able to hold him up? _Arthur_! Merlin thought as panic gripped him. Arthur couldn't be in the lake. It was too dangerous!

"Go!" he managed to say. "Get out of the water! You'll… you'll die! Leave me!"

"_Merlin_!" said Arthur more forcefully. "Stop struggling! It's not deep, you idiot!"

"What?"

Arthur held him strongly by the shoulders, pulling him up as though he weighted nothing at all, and then his feet touched the bottom.

"Oh. Bottom," he muttered.

But even as he stood there, water dripping from his hair into his face, he knew that he was not safe. The evil of the lake was at work; his strength was leaving him.

"Hey, come on! Don't pass out!" cried out Arthur.

"The lake… It's evil," whispered Merlin. He didn't have enough strength to put in more words.

"Yeah, I feel it too."

Merlin managed to open his eyes enough to see that Arthur had turned pale. His hand was on his forehead. He was about to tip over and fall head first into the water. And then he heard splashing.

"Lancelot, you pull Arthur. I'll take care of Merlin," commanded a strong and familiar voice.

"_Gwaine_…"

He allowed the knight to hoist him up under the armpits. He was just too weak to struggle. He knew he should be telling them all to leave, but they would never accept that and he was too exhausted to have an argument. He had no idea how far he was into the lake, not much he supposed since it was not deep, but the way back towards the shore seemed to take forever. Everything around him was hazy. He could only hear his own raspy breathing.

When Gwaine laid him on the beach, he turned his head around and his gaze met Arthur's. They were both lying in the sand on their backs with their heads turned towards the other, the water of the lake barely touching their feet. And at that moment, staring into the prince's eyes, Merlin saw the same stubbornness, the same determination, and the same convictions. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing his soul laid out before him, clear and bright. Arthur and him; they were more than just connected. They were the same, and Arthur knew it. Why else would he be here?

He didn't have time to find an answer. The ground began to shake beneath him and a noise like thunder filled the air. Arthur sprang to his feet, Lancelot at his side. Merlin struggled to his feet with his remaining strength, but Gwaine was supporting him.

What he saw erupt from the water before him made his heart stop.

The creature was one of nightmare. It had the shape of a dragon, but Merlin knew at once that it was not. It was a Shadow, a monster born of hatred and darkness and the embodiment of the curse that was poisoning the lake. The monster was dark and imposing, as high as the walls of the keep, with hideous fangs and black smoke coming out of its nostrils. The water behind the Shadow had risen like a wall and it was following the creature's movement. If the horrible mouth of the monster did not devour them, then the water would crush them like bugs.

_Dragonlords_! A voice screeched inside Merlin's head. It was so loud and full of rage that it hurt. Merlin glanced rapidly at Arthur and saw that the prince was bending over in pain as well.

_Betrayers! You allowed the dragons to suffer and perish at Uther's hand__ while you should have protected them with your lives. You have misused the sacred gift for selfish family feuds. The bond between dragons and men is broken. And now you shall die!_

Merlin's mind was working in slow motion. All that he could think of was that Arthur was going to die and he couldn't accept that.

And so, without any thought for himself, Merlin raced forward. He didn't stop when he heard his name being shouted. His plan was only to run and plant his feet in front of the Shadow, which he did in a flash. Then, raising both of his hands, he summoned a shield of magic in front of him. The words spoken by the Great _Dragon_ months ago echoed in the back of his mind. _No spell or enchantment can help you. You have to find the will within yourself._ And so he did to the terrible Shadow what he had done once to Morgana. He called up the image of a pure white light in his mind and he pushed it toward the monster. The light seemed to burst out of him so much that he had to look away. The world around him faded and for a moment he was not a man anymore; he was a creature of magic whose purpose was to obliterate darkness.

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a streak of silver and gold. Someone had thrown an object at the Shadow: his grandfather's sword.

The scream that followed might have belonged to the monster or it might have belonged to him. What he could tell for sure was that the battle was over and the evil was fading away.

He fell to his knees and then head first in the sand. His body was aching all over but there was only one thing on his mind now. _Arthur. I'm going to _kill _you_.


	21. Chapter 21: Awkward

**Author's note :**

**I know that I don't reply to all the reviews, but you can be sure that they are always appreciated. Please keep reviewing!**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter 21**

He wanted to smack that triumphant grin off Arthur's face. What was that selfish, _brainless_ prince thinking? He could have _died_. Camelot would be without an heir. They were doomed without him. He shouldn't even be here. What was he thinking leaving Camelot like that all for a servant? But of course Arthur Pendragon didn't _think_. It was much easier for him to just put his life in danger whenever he pleased without thought of the consequences. What of the outcome for his most trusted knights and his manservant? What would Uther do to them if they brought back the body of his one and only son? Of all the things Arthur had done, of all the risk taken over the last few years, this was by far the most self-centered course of action he had ever undertaken.

And now, on top of everything, he was going to take credit for what Merlin had done. Should _the prince_ be thanked for breaking the curse that could easily have reduced him to nothingness? Was Merlin supposed to make way for that condescending idiot once again? Certainly, his life couldn't be that unfair.

Arthur was beaming at him now, but Merlin's hands were busy looking for something in the sand, something to grab, to break or to throw. If he could just find the strength to get up and fling anything at Arthur's grinning face…

"_Prat_!" he yelled

But his unsteady hand only managed to toss a few pebbles.

"You're welcomed!" cried out Arthur with a wide grin on his face.

"You pompous, arrogant, selfish _arse_!" Merlin shouted angrily. "You could have died! You could have got us killed!"

Arthur looked as though he had been stung.

"Me? What about saving the entire valley from that curse?" he said, shaking a menacing finger at Merlin's face.

"That was your plan now, was it?"

Merlin couldn't help the bitterness he felt. He had put so much effort into breaking that light that he barely had enough strength to stand. Why was it his destiny to feel sore and exhausted each time Arthur had a moment of glory?

"What's bothering you, _Merlin_? Is it the idea that I had to throw your sword or the fact that I saved your life?"

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much," he snorted.

Arthur's mouth fell open. "Is that why Lancelot's sword is so remarkably planted into that tree?"

"Better into the tree than into your head," snapped back the young warlock.

Lancelot threw him a reproachful glance but he ignored it. Gwaine was leaning nonchalantly against a large rock and seemed vastly amused.

"I see that you aim hasn't improved," sneered Arthur.

But Merlin was unmovable. "Nor have your manners," he said, pausing meaningfully on every word.

Arthur threw his hands into the air. "What do you want? An apology?"

"What about a thank you?" Merlin burst out, completely exasperated. "How can it be so hard? _Thank you_ Merlin for saving my life countless times. _Thank you_ for supporting me and always being loyal even though I was a bully and I made your life miserable. _Thank you_ for putting your life at risk every day that you breathe in Camelot so that I can keep being a _prat_. _Thank you_ for putting up with the pains and the headaches that come with performing magic far beyond what anyone has ever seen while at the same time being able to clean your room, polish your armour, whip up your dinner and clean your leech tank."

"That's Gaius," muttered the prince. "I don't have a leech tank…"

"You get the point!" Merlin shouted breathlessly.

He wasn't even looking at Arthur anymore. He couldn't bear another look into that beaming, self-arrogant grin.

"Is that what you really want?"

Merlin felt a little aback by the sincere tone.

"Hell, yeah!"

There was a silence, and then Arthur sought his gaze.

"Thank you," the prince said, peering into his face.

"Err…. _What_?"

Arthur took a deep breath. He even pressed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Thank you for… all that you said. And you can return to Camelot, if that's what you want. I won't kill you or let my father do anything… I don't know how but… Your place is there you know. I mean it doesn't have to be but it could be if you'd… like."

For a moment, Merlin remained sceptical, but the Arthur now standing before him was different from the pretentious prince. On his face, there was a trace of that future king who had spoken at the Round Table in a time of need.

"I'm speechless," Merlin declared earnestly.

"I knew I'd make that happen someday."

And then, without warning, he caught Merlin's head in the crouch of his arm and ruffled his hair with his knuckle. Merlin winced, but he knew he had no chance to escape the firm grip.

"What was that for?" he said when Arthur released him.

The prince's playful grin was in place again. "That was for calling me selfish. Don't you know that I came all this way just to make sure you didn't fall into some dark abyss? I'm hopeless without you."

Merlin snorted mischievously. "I knew that already."

"You have no idea how hard it is to come by a half-decent servant nowadays, even one as clumsy as you. They're all… I don't know… _awed_ in my presence."

"That was never my case, I hope," snorted Merlin again.

The only reply that he got was a strong nudge on the shoulder.

It was a strange thing to be standing on that beach where so much evil had happened, such dark magic had been gathered, and not feel anything else but cheer joy. The dread that had gnawed at his heart night after night had been replaced by a soft breeze and a silver moonlight. He felt whole again, whatever that meant. And most importantly, he was going home.

It took him a while to realise that Gwaine was glancing at Arthur and him as though they were two very odd people.

"It feels kind of awkward to watch," the knight finally said. "Is this going to end in a hug?"

**Author's note:**

**This is not the end of the story, but it's certainly the beginning of something new for Arthur and Merlin. Their relationship is going to change as they become future king and future great sorcerer.**

**Now they must head back for Camelot and face… err… another threat?**

**The reviews I get will determine how many more chapters I will add to this story.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	22. Chapter 22: Parting Gifts

**Word from the author:**

**Thanks for keeping up with the story this far. It makes me really happy!**

**It's almost over, but there might be a sequel. Just don't forget to drop me a word and tell me what you thought of the story.**

**This is the last chapter.**

**Enjoy.**

**DAWN OF THE DRAGONLORD**

**Chapter 22**

"Lady Helen? The Afanc?"

"Saved your life."

"Lancelot already told me about the Griffin and the Cup of Life. What else?"

Merlin raked his brain, but already he was growing tired of that game. He needed to pack for the journey back to Camelot. He also had many words of farewell to give. He had barely spoken with Lord Brunor – _King_ Brunor he corrected himself – ever since the battle with the terrible Shadow. He had not heard from Galahad either. Somehow he _knew_ that the dark magic had been lifted, otherwise he would be lying in bed sick from falling in the water. But the _Gaius_ part of him was still longing anxiously for some kind of confirmation.

On the whole, he was feeling a lot better than he had in a long while. After months of hunting evil creatures after dark, a night's sleep had felt like a blessing even though it had been short one. The death of the King and the prospect of returning to Camelot had woken him early in the morning and he had spent possibly a few hours sitting in his bed, thinking. The tiredness and soreness were almost gone now, though he wasn't sure that he was fully recovered from falling into the cursed water. His magic was no longer a secret and Arthur seemed to have accepted it, which ought to make him happy, yet he was feeling the weight of another burden, another secret that he was bringing with him to Camelot. He was the last of the House of Brittanicus, a _noble_ family, but he would have to pretend to be a servant once more. And on top of everything, Arthur's constant questioning was getting on his nerves.

Merlin had honestly imagined that he would find some peace and quiet at the stables, but it seemed he hadn't.

"Edwin the physician with his so-called remedy to cure all ills, what do you have to say about him?" said the prince, continuing with his inquiries.

"He was actually trying to kill your father by putting bugs in his ears. Bit frightening, that was," Merlin said absent-mindedly as he was folding a blanket and adding it to his horse's satchel.

He had always liked these stables. They were much less impressive than the ones in Camelot, but the air felt less contained and the smell was much more bearable. He could tell that the animals were comfortable there. Upon his arrival in _Aria's Cradle_, he had been given a brown horse that was slow, old and insignificant. But the one that he was most fond of was a grey stallion called Nuada which he technically was not allowed to ride. Only Galahad knew how often Merlin had taken Nuada through the Valley and beyond. There was a strange connection between them. Sometimes he almost felt as though the horse knew where he wanted to go or what he wanted to do. He had even imagined that he could hear it whisper, but that was just his imagination.

Right now, the horse was stamping the ground and shaking its mane of long grey hair.

_Sorry__, my friend_, Merlin thought bitterly as he pulled the straps on the saddle of the brown horse whose name he could not even recall. _I can't take you with me, Nuada. They will not allow it. Besides you'd hate it in Camelot. Risking your life every day. It's not a kind of life I'd pick for anyone. Here it's better for you._

Arthur was utterly undisturbed by the deep thoughts that Merlin was having.

"What about Lady Sophia?" the prince burst out loudly, which made a few of the horses neigh nervously. "You didn't _really_ hit me on the head to bring me back. I have _never_ believed that."

"No, but I saved your life," Merlin replied pointedly.

"And the wraith that almost killed my father?"

"Magic sword burnished by dragon fire. It came in handy with Morgause's Immortal Army as well."

Arthur's mouth fell open and Merlin could see behind his eyes that the prince was making calculations. He was trying to figure out how many times the young sorcerer had saved his life and Camelot in complete anonymity.

"And in Ealdor? I'm guessing your friend Will wasn't the sorcerer who conjured up that whirlwind. How could you let him take credit for that?"

"He was trying to protect me."

"And the Questing Beast?"

"Saved your life."

"The curse of Cornelius Sigan?"

"Saved your life… but mostly I saved Camelot."

"What about jousting? If you tell me that you used magic to make me win…"

"No… I would never… Can you please stop that?"

Merlin let out a long sigh of irritation as he picked up his sword's empty sheath and considered discarding it. It was useless now, thanks to Arthur. He had been really fond of the way it allowed him to carry the sword on his back instead of on his belt. But what good was an empty shell now?

Arthur was still looking at him expectantly. "_Well_?"

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Merlin said annoyingly. He had forgotten the point of Arthur's inquiries.

The prince merely shrugged. "We were traveling light so there wasn't much to pack. Gwaine and Lancelot took care of the food, which probably means that we'll have to stop at a few inns and taverns along the way. You're not going to leave that here, are you?"

Merlin looked at the empty sheath in his hand. He knew that he couldn't keep anything too conspicuous with him and he didn't need Arthur Pendragon to tell him exactly that. Servants do not carry around fancy things. It was mostly the reason why he was leaving almost everything behind. He was keeping with him only a long grey travelling cloak to keep warm. The books in his chamber would have to remain behind though he would have liked to show them to Gaius. Gwaine and Galahad had convinced him to keep at least the chain mail which he was certain to need at some point, but all of the clothes adorning the Brittanicus crest were staying in _Aria's Cradle_. Lord Merlin Brittanicus, it seemed, was about to disappear from his life.

"I'm not sure what to do with it," he murmured as he met Arthur's inquiring glance. "Of course I wouldn't have an empty sheath if you hadn't thrown my grandfather's sword away in the Black Lake."

Arthur looked outraged. "To save your life and lift the curse!"

"I could have done it without the sword. I was in complete control of the situation."

"No, you weren't, not after falling into that cursed water," pointed out the prince. "You would have _died_."

"Now we'll never know," Merlin replied smartly and with a smirk.

"You're just too proud to admit that I helped!" gasped the prince.

"You lost my grandfather's sword. How does that help?"

"_Merlin_!"

"My Lord?"

Merlin said "Yes?" at once. He then immediately realised that the prince had replied as well, which only made him shot a cross look at Arthur.

A tall knight was standing at the entrance of the stable.

"Lord _Merlin_, the King requests your presence in the Great Hall."

Without further ado, he followed the knight out of the stables, only to hear Arthur shout "Saved your life!" from behind his back.

Merlin didn't even look back when he replied. "No, you didn't!"

He had seen the Great Hall busy before, but never quite like this. For once, the throne room was not filled with desperate people cowering from the nightmare outside the walls of the keep. The chamber was filled with loud talk, clatter of metal and clanging of heavy hammers. The servants were hanging back the ornaments on the stone walls; there were swords and shields in every corner of the room. Merlin recognised the blazons of the five Dragonlord Houses. Also, at least twenty men were working on moving the rocks from the caved in wall.

"Merlin!" called a voice from across the room.

The young sorcerer immediately noticed King Brunor walking towards him and he was glad to see that the cares of watching over his dying father for months had been removed from the knight's face. He was almost like a new man, tall and proud.

"You're leaving us already," said Brunor, clasping a brotherly hand on Merlin's shoulder and leading him to take a walk around the Great Hall.

"I'm afraid I have too," Merlin replied respectfully, keeping a step back from the King as he was used to as a servant. "Prince Arthur has been away from Camelot for too long and we have a long way to travel. I am sorry that I could not be here when your father passed away."

Brunor merely shook his head. "You are not to blame. You have been by his side during his long agony more often then I can say. It is a shame, however, that he did not live to know that the curse has been lifted. But he knew that you would be the one to do it, and somehow that thought was enough to give him peace."

Merlin slowed down his pace. As much as he wanted to agree with Brunor, he could not leave the new King with a lie.

"You're giving me too much credit. I played a part, but in the end it was Arthur who gave the final blow."

Brunor gave him a fond look. "That is not how Arthur tells it. He said that you produced a pure light to repel the Shadow. Such magic has not been seen for a long time. You are quite special, my friend."

Merlin felt himself blush. Gaius had called him 'special' more than one, but to hear it spoken by a king seemed to through a new light on the meaning of his gift.

"I… don't know what to say, my Lord."

"I'm not finished yet," replied Brunor. "You're quite special and Arthur knows it. He's _seen_ it. I couldn't let you go with someone unaware of what and who you are. You may feel that it is your destiny to protect Arthur Pendragon, but I'm making it _his_ responsibility to watch over you. I shall send Galahad in a few months to make sure that you are well."

"I appreciate your concern, my Lord, but I can take care of my self," Merlin said sulkily.

Brunor was shaking his head. "Merlin, your ability to hurt yourself and put yourself in the front line of danger never ceases to amaze me, and I am sure it will be the same in Camelot. You cannot escape this, I'm afraid."

Merlin knew that it was pointless to argue with Brunor. The knight was as stubborn as Arthur but he had a sort of nobility in him that the young sorcerer greatly admired. The fact that Brunor was now on the throne was taking a little weight off his shoulders. _Aria's Cradle_ was in good hands.

"Then I shall be glad to see Galahad again," he said with a grin. "But where is Galahad?"

"He's preparing your second parting gift," Brunor said elusively.

"Second?"

"Yes," replied Brunor. "And you first parting gift is right this way."

He then pressed both hands on Merlin's shoulders to turn him around gently. The sight before him nearly knocked all the air out of Merlin's lungs. The knights of _Aria's Cradle_, along with Lancelot and Gwaine, were all present as though they had been miraculously plucked out of the crowd. They were standing proudly before him, all of them wearing the black cloak and silver dragon crest, in a kind of ceremonial salute. The tallest of them, Gregory, took a step forward and held out an object wrapped in a grey cloth. When he unfolded the fabric, it was to reveal Merlin's grandfather sword.

"Where did you…?" Merlin began to say, trying hard to contain his emotions.

"It washed up on the shore of the Black Lake," said Brunor. "It's a little beaten, but it is still yours if you want it."

His only reaction was to pick up the sword by the hilt. The blade was a less shiny it seemed, the silver and gold markings a little faded, but still it was his sword and he was glad to get it back. It was a piece of his family and holding it gave him a sense of being whole again.

"I find name for it," said Gregory with his typical accent. "It is called… Light of Brittanicus."

Several of the knights were wearing wide derisive grins.

"I kind of like it actually," said Merlin. "It is the Sword of Brittanicus, isn't it? Thank you Gregory."

After that, he exchanged many words of farewell with the knights. All of them announced that they would come to his aid should he ever ask for it. Gregory almost crushed his ribs when he gave him a tight and surprising hug. Brunor shook his hand warmly and Merlin replied by bowing low to the new King before leaving the Great Hall.

When he reached the stables, his second parting gift was indeed waiting for him. Galahad was there and holding the reins of a horse that was all packed and ready to go. But it was not the brown horse; it was a proud grey stallion with long hair. It was _Nuada_.

"What…?" he began to say, but he had to stop to catch his breath. The sword had been a beautiful moment, but this was something he had not expected.

"Brunor was intending this horse for his son," Galahad said with great admiration, "but he decided that it is too big… for a baby."

"Then it is perfect for Merlin," said a familiar voice behind the young sorcerer's back.

He didn't even have to look to know what kind of smirk Arthur was wearing.

"At least it doesn't have that self-satisfied air like _all_ of your horses," Merlin replied smartly. "I hope it's not a disease or something. I wouldn't want Nuada to catch it."

"Do you need help with that?" asked Galahad, pointing at Merlin's sword.

The young sorcerer did not even need to reply. Galahad already had the empty sheath. He placed the sword in it and adjusted the straps so that Merlin could carry it on his back, all under Arthur's petrified look.

"You are going to tell me how you retrieved that sword, right?" said Arthur as they were both mounted on their horses, side by side, and Galahad was walking back towards the keep, having just given Merlin the warmest farewell with the promise of a visit to Camelot soon.

"He's not limping so much now, is he?" continued the prince.

"No, the healing should be faster with the curse gone."

Merlin knew that he was only answering absent-mindedly. His eyes were fixed on the keep and the valley beyond with the strange impression that he was never going to see it again. This place had been his home for a short time only, but it had felt as though he had known it for longer than that. As much as he wanted to see Camelot again, and Gaius and his mother and Gwen, taking the first step back towards them also meant taking one away from _Aria's Cradle_, the birth place of his father, and the last home of the Brittanicus.

Arthur seemed to have followed his glance.

"You will come back here someday," he said with the same seriousness he kept for important moments.

"No, I won't," said Merlin before he could even think about his reply.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. I just have a bad feeling."

"Is this going to happen often?"

Merlin glanced sideways at the prince. "I'm not a seer," he replied.

"Why shouldn't you come back here then? It's where your father grew up, is it not? I still can't believe that you got away with that, by the way."

Their horses were growing impatient now and Lancelot and Gwaine were waiting for them to lead the way. They would have time to talk more seriously along the road.

"Maybe if you weren't so self-centered, you would have noticed that something else was happening all by yourself."

Arthur jerked his horse sideways to face him.

"Why is it that even after I saved your life I'm still a selfish… _prat_?"

"You didn't save my life," Merlin snapped back. "And you are a selfish _prat_, condescending and all that. And I would also like to point that that I was able to keep my magic a secret under your nose for years so you might think twice about that before calling me an idiot."

"Are you saying that _I, Prince Arthur,_ am an idiot for not seeing it?"

"Yep."

Merlin did not even need to kick his horse; Nuada knew that it was time to go.

"You can't call me an idiot!" cried out Arthur, catching up with him.

"You call me an idiot all the time," called back Merlin.

"That's because you are."

"Likewise then. And technically, until we reach Camelot, I am still Lord Merlin so you may address me as… _My Lord_ or… _Sire_."

"Over my dead body," Arthur said loudly as their horses sped forward towards the mouth of the valley.

They did not see Gwaine and Lancelot exchange a very annoyed look.

"Is it going to be like this all the way home?" said the older knight.

Lancelot's only answer was to sigh and send his horse forward.

"Better make it fast, then."

The last of Lord Brittanicus, Prince Arthur and the two other knights that the people of _Aria's Cradle_ saw was the outline of four riders going steadily towards a setting sun.


	23. Epilogue: Return to Camelot

**DAWN OF THE DRAGONLORD**

**Author's note: This is the end now. Please let me know what you thought of the story. Looking forward to the real Season 4!**

**Enjoy.**

**EPILOGUE**

"Rise and shine!"

Arthur had never appreciated being woken by bright light shining in his eyes, but this time it was different. This time it meant that Merlin was back. And by the tone of his voice, the prince knew that his servant was just as glad to be back in Camelot.

"This place is a mess! I always knew you were a _prat_, I just didn't know you were a slob."

"_Merlin_…" groaned the prince while burying his face in the pillow to shut out the bright morning light.

Yes, Merlin was back. Yet there hung a sort of uncertainty in the air. To everyone but a few trusted knights, Merlin was Arthur's manservant, but to those who knew the truth, he was in fact a powerful sorcerer, a noble of the House of Brittanicus, and a Dragonlord. Now he, Prince Arthur, was expected to keep up the pretense. But how could he? Was he really going to order _Lord_ Merlin around? Make him muck out the stables, clean his room, mend his clothes, bring his food? No one in their right mind would accept to be treated that way, against their birthrights, even against their nature. Then again, Merlin was not like anyone that he knew. In fact, Merlin was not only a lot cleverer then he looked; he was also the most well-kept secret in the entire kingdom. As annoying as it was to Arthur, if anyone had the ability to pull it off, it would be Merlin.

The tricky part, of course, would be to stop him from showing off too much.

"Seriously! You could at least have learned to pick yourself up," Merlin was saying as Arthur sat up in his bed. He became suddenly aware that the level of agitation was somewhat disproportionate to the actual state of his chambers.

"This is called a _cupboard,_" Merlin continued, pointing at the large piece of furniture. "This is for your _clean_ clothes. The dirty ones you can put… Well, we'll find a system for you because Gaius wants me to take on more physician duties and I won't always have time to look under your bed to find your… What is _that_? An apple core? I'm really disappointed."

The smug smile on Merlin's face wasn't going to make it easy.

"We have to talk," said Arthur as he was pulling his usual red shirt over his head.

Merlin kept on fussing about the room, picking up leftovers and shuffling through Arthur's clothes as though expecting to find more apple cores.

"If this is _you_ trying to tell _me_ that I can't use magic, then I have to say that I already know. It comes from having an incredible power of astuteness equaled only by an intense desire to live.

Arthur suppressed a smile. This had to remain a serious conversation.

"You are aware of my father's new rule," he stated, crossing his arms on his chest.

Merlin slowed down his pace. "Anyone caught performing magic will be killed on sight," he said bluntly.

The prince nodded. It still had not properly sunk in that his father would order him to do such a thing. Even during the Great Purge, there had been a reasonable gathering of proof before sending anyone accused of using magic to the pyre. To order one's army to kill on sight was opening the door wide for mindless accusations, which would only add mistrust to the existing climate of fear within the walls of Camelot. There was rumor now that the king's mind was set on revenge and war, or that it was clouded by something else entirely. The word 'madness' had reached Arthur's ears on his first day back from Aria's Cradle. If he was choosing to ignoring it now, it was only because he needed time to think...

"This is not a rule easy to work around," Arthur said darkly. "I may not always be there to cover for you."

Merlin leaned his back against the table on which Arthur's armor was resting. "I know. Gaius already warned me. You know it's not _right_, that rule, don't you?"

Arthur bowed his head low, now painfully aware of the huge task before him. "Yes, but he's my father. I will not betray him. And I won't put myself on the throne either; my father's allies would declare war instantly. I'll... think of another way. But you... you have to stay safe... and hidden."

Merlin's lips turned into a half-smile. "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

Arthur's face hardened. "This is serious. I... _Camelot_ needs you. You're the only one with magic who can possibly be on our side."

"All right! I'll be careful," said Merlin with a grin.

Arthur knew that he had to stand his ground. "You won't be using magic at all."

The change in Merlin's face was instantaneous. He threw up his arms in annoyance. "But you just said... What about all of those times when you'll need me to save your royal ass?"

"What about trusting me a little more huh?" The prince snapped back. "Listen, I'm prepared to make way for you in the face of a _magical_ threat, but if you use your magic for your chores or your own purposes, I'll personally throw you in the dungeons. Understand?"

He couldn't help waving his finger at him. He knew that he was scolding Merlin like a child, but how else was he supposed to act? He still had that defiant grin on his face and Arthur was quite powerless to make him see sense. Against all possibilities, the thing that Arthur Pendragon, Heir to the throne of Camelot, had come to fear most was a world in which his manservant was no longer there besides him. Merlin couldn't die; it was as simple as that.

"You'll make way for me?" asked the young warlock incredulously. "Like _taking charge_?"

"Well, sure," snorted Arthur. "You're the one who can talk to dragons and all that."

A moment of silence passed between them. Arthur could easily tell that this last comment held a lot of meaning for Merlin although the young warlock was not allowing himself to show it. It didn't seem fair to lay this burden on him so soon after his return, but the fact was that he couldn't wait for Merlin to be ready.

"I'm not really the 'taking charge' type, you know," said Merlin in a hushed voice.

Arthur was briefly reminded of his own expression on the day his father had told him that he was to rule over more experienced and older men than himself. He took the time to walk over to stand besides Merlin, nudging him on the shoulder as he leaned against the wooden table.

"You didn't do so bad in _Aria's Cradle_," replied the prince.

Merlin's smile was weak. "They didn't call me _Lord_ Merlin right away. I had to kill a couple of dark creatures first."

"Then you have some experience, which is more than I had, you know, being trained to rule since birth."

Merlin let out a derisive snort and Arthur was glad for the change of mood.

"The knights are all sworn to secrecy, of course," he said in a lighter tone. "Well, all of the knights who are aware of what you are: Percival, Elyan, Gwaine and Lancelot. We'll also have to do something about Leon. We need him on our side. I will tell Gwen as well. But Lancelot… How could you tell Lancelot and not me?"

He was walking around his chambers now and he saw Merlin jump on his feet as well.

"I'm not getting into that," Merlin said smartly. "And I'm done telling you about all the magic I did behind your back. You'll just have to assume it was me all along."

Arthur felt an outburst of annoyance. "_Merlin_! I will have no more secrets!" he shouted in spite of himself.

But he knew by the way that Merlin was smirking and bouncing around the chambers that he already had his defences up.

"I guess Lancelot is just smarter than you because he found out all by himself," replied the servant.

"I'm extremely astute!" burst out Arthur.

"You were – what's that word? – _dumbfounded_."

"You may have eluded me…"

"Though I'm not sure it really applies..."

"_Merlin_!"

"_Outsmarted_."

_He asked for it_, thought Arthur as he grabbed the nearest goblet that he could find and threw it at Merlin's back. To his surprise, however, Merlin's ear twitched and almost simultaneously he wheeled around, the cup stopping in midair inches from his nose.

Arthur gasped in horror. "That's exactly the kind of thing that cannot happen!"

"Oh come on! I wanted to do that my whole life!"

The prince caught an empty plate and threw it forcefully. This time it hit Merlin on the shoulder.

"That's much better!" cried out the prince with what he hoped was his self-satisfied tone.

"Ow! All right! I'll get your breakfast!"

"I'm not finished with you yet!"

Merlin stopped near the door, a smug look on his face. "Going to throw something else at me?"

There was one more thing on Prince Arthur's mind. He walked slowly over to Merlin, taking his most solemn air.

"I have a question for you. Two, actually."

Merlin's smile faded. He considered Arthur's serious expression and then he said: "You want to know about Morgana."

The prince nodded. "Is she alive?"

He didn't like the shadow on Merlin's face, as though he was remembering something painful.

"Alive and safe from Morgause. But her mind is fragile. If Morgause gets hold of her again, then we will loose her forever."

Arthur allowed the words to sink in. "Then... there is hope..."

"I didn't say that. There is darkness in her. She's not the Morgana that you remember, not anymore."

"Can I see her?"

Merlin did not even need to think before he replied, as though he had already prepared the answer to that question.

"No, not yet. She's not ready."

"But... soon?"

"I don't know. I will check on her soon and then I'll let you know."

Arthur wasn't entirely satisfied with the answer, but he knew that he would not get more information from the young warlock on that subject. In any case, Merlin was taking charge, and that was good enough for him.

"Anything else, Sire?" Merlin let out quietly.

"_Yes_. Where's your dragon?"

Merlin shook his head and brushed a hand on the side of head in a gesture that Arthur had come to identify as anxiety or uneasiness.

"I don't know. I'm working on that. I'm doing all that I can..."

All that Arthur could do was press a caring hand on the young Dragonlord's shoulder.

"You just came back. I'm sure he'll turn up. Give yourself some time, all right? And no more secrets. If something is wrong, you come to me."

Some color seemed to return to Merlin's face. "I'll be glad to. Breakfast?"

Arthur quickly released Merlin's shoulder, pretending to be looking from some unknown object on his worktable.

"Yes, and don't forget the meat."

"Are you sure? Because you look a little... you know... _round_..."

They exchanged a glance. It only lasted a moment, but in that moment Arthur felt as though they were the same again, both of them struggling to be what they were meant to be against all possible odds and obstacles. They were more than distant cousins; they were kin.

Why then did the little _prat_ have to be so annoying?

"Get that smirk out of your face and get me my breakfast. And Merlin? If you ever use magic on me, I'll kill you myself."

All that Arthur Pendragon could do as he stared at the closed door was to smile widely. The questions about Morgana and the dragon seemed of secondary importance. Merlin was back. How could things possibly go wrong?

THE END


End file.
